Alvin and the Chipmunks: Territory
by MRAY 4TW
Summary: They've got it all: fame, popularity, money, originality and bonds closer than family. The Six are at the top but now, all they've got left to go… is down. Troubled pasts, corruption and extremists stand to threaten their very way of life. One must truly know when to toe the boundary... and when to cross the dotted line. (Alvin/Brittany, Simon/Jeanette, Theodore/Eleanor) R and R.
1. Chapter 1

**AATC: Territory**

 **They've got it all. Fame, popularity, money, originality and bonds closer than family. They're at the top but now, all they've got left to go… is down. Jealousy, lies, distrust and an impending war threaten to tear them apart at the seams. Alvittany, Simonette and Theonor.**

 **Inspiration: Welcome all to my very own 'Alvin and the Chipmunks' fanfiction. I really got into the idea after watching the series they have on Nickelodeon before reading fanfiction, done by the likes of Jake Miller, Akira Sieghart and simonseville27. Jake's responsible for inspiring me to write this fic; I 'blame' him!**

 **Location: I've lived in Jamaica my whole life. Given what little I know about USA from the Media and research thus far (coupled with a map open in a web browser,) that's what I'm running with. I'll try my best; you won't even notice the difference, trust me.**

 **Updates: I use a schedule. This fic will get updates every 14-21 days. (If everything proceeds normally) Each update will be 4k-6.5k long. My word goal is 50k+.**

 **Feedback: All is welcome. Review 'till your hearts give out. Sign in, review, sign out again and review as a guest. I guess flames are fine so long as you tell me what I'm doing wrong. I know that this fandom isn't as popular as one would like it to be but that's no excuse to say, 'meh, can't bother'.**

 **Music: I** _ **will**_ **use songs in this fic, both from artistes and poetry (From either me or my sister). I simply write the fic and achieve my word quota,** _ **then**_ **I put in lyrics. No way am I using these songs just for filler.**

 **Size and Universe: For upcoming events and such in the fic, I'll be going with animated cartoon size (and ability to grow from the 90s.) I think this size is more down to earth and practical. Besides, this way, they won't end being underfoot all the time from CGI films.**

 **Disclaimer: I'll say this only once. I don't own Alvin and the Chipmunks. I don't own their characters, personalities, ideas, etc. All of that belongs to the Bagdasarians and J. Karman, I believe.**

 **I only own my unique plots, and potential Original characters. My only benefit, is that of occupying my time with something deemed as 'constructive'. (Ahem. 'Writing' a story, instead of committing arson.)**

 **1.**

"Thank you, Philly!" Alvin yelled into the microphone as all of the fans screamed their applause of the Chipmunks and the Chipettes. They were nearly giddy at the amazing concert the two trios had pulled off in tandem with one another. This one was even better than the last and as he looked out over the expansive open air audience, he could have sworn that he could see faces from their previous concerts in states they had already passed through.

Theodore and Simon let out a long exhale, seeing their brother's antics again. They supposed that they had gotten used to it. Perhaps one was 'allowed' to behave in such a manner; after all, this was a rather large concert and he carrying on like that kept the audience pumped.

It was now six in the morning.

After a few more words of farewell and some slight boasting and banter done by the lead singers of the two trios, the audience converted into a half-lingered, half-leaving state. Most headed for their various modes of transportation, some walked and yet others lagged behind, purchasing caffeinated and diabetes-inducing beverages. The six still on the stage conversed quietly while sipping their favorite sodas retrieved from a nearby ice-filled cooler set up for that specific purpose. Alvin sighed in his now depleting euphoria and the others did the same.

"That's the end of that. Didn't expect a turnout like that from Philadelphia." The red-capped chipmunk stated.

"Actually Alvin, we have three more concerts, all in other states." Simon amended the idea. Eleanor groaned a little when she heard this. She stroked her eyes and yawned.

"Are they all-nighters?"

"Uh huh." Jeannette confirmed. She didn't really feel the same way as her green-clad sister when it came on to rest. While she was also getting weary of doing concerts with the others that ran so late…right back into the early morning, she had to admit that she might be getting used to it. 'Ugh. My internal clock must now be in full reverse. Now it thinks that night is day and day, night. We really should correct this before School starts up again in the fall.'

The sun was rising swiftly now, casting its golden light over the open area. Depending on what one called luck, the stage where they were standing still was facing the east. Although in the early morning the sun's rays were 'gentle', the sextet did **not** enjoy participating in a staring contest with the undefeated celestial body.

A bit irritated, they all turned their backs to it. They were a bit peeved because in doing so, they were unable to keep the tradition of always being in a sort of circle, a ring if you may. It kept everyone facing each other but now, they no longer had that, albeit temporarily. The feeling was a bit foreign to the six who were so close to one another.

"So, which songs are we singing in Richmond?" Brittany asked. "Does anyone know?"

"I'm sure Dave will tell us." Theodore offered. He was now on his third soda but luckily, no one noticed that a certain flavor was no longer available.

"Well, I gotta know! I nearly panicked when we had to switch songs midway through the chorus! It's kinda embarrassing when you're still singing the previous song when _someone_ changes to the next one." As she implied the emphasis, she leveled a mild glare at Alvin, who had the decency to chuckle in (very) slight shame, knowing it was mostly his fault.

"Well, I was trying to make sure we kept their interest. We have to be kinda spon…spotanus?" He stumbled a bit.

"Spontaneous?" The blue Seville offered.

"Err, yeah! That!" His brother exclaimed when he received the amendment.

"Well…not everyone's on the same page as you, Alvin!" Brittany argued. Jeanette was in full agreement, having getting caught up in the error as well. "Right guys?"

"Well, to tell the truth, over the years I've grown to expect when Alvin is going to change songs. I guess Theodore and I have gotten used to it, Brittany." Simon slightly pushed up his glasses back up his nose. "If it's any consolation, he tends to change songs during the Bridge."

"The…wha?" Eleanor asked.

"The instrumental passage that links two sections of a musical composition."

"Again…wha?" She raised an eyebrow with her mouth slightly agape in her incomprehension.

"He means during the instrument solos." Jeanette stated, 'dumb-ing' down the definition so the others who hadn't caught on to the meaning knew what the bi-spectacled chipmunk meant.

"Oh. Well, a little warning would be nice." Brittany said, folding her arms.

"Maybe we can work out a hand-signal or something." Alvin replied, now a bit anxious to please.

"Good."

A man around the height of six feet tall came up on stage, wearing a blazer with a C&C logo on it along with a matching cap. He strode up to the sextet and half-smiled, half-grinned.

"Amazing concert, you guys."

"Thanks Dave." They chorused. The action slightly put off the man, wondering how they could do that, as if they were all attuned to each other in their minds to pull off something like that.

'Perhaps it's because they're that close.' "Anyway, you guys can go to bed. I'll wrap up things here so we can get everything settled for later, alright?"

"Sure." (2)

"Okay." (2)

"That sounds affable." (2)

The man cocked up an eyebrow. 'Now, only twin counterparts did it this time, like the usual Simon and Jeanette, Alvin and Brittany along with Theodore and Eleanor. I wonder if they've already realized it. They're practically tailor-made for each other. I suppose they will eventually, if they haven't already.'

The sextet yawned collectively before walking off the stage to the right and made their way to their bus. They all filed in and told their driver 'good morning.' The stout man nodded while touching his cap and soon, he drove back to the hotel where they were staying. Although upon arriving, he had to wake them up and inform them to go to their rooms and sleep there instead, properly and more comfortably.

Now yawning uncontrollably, they did not put up any protest. To do so would mean contradicting one of the body's most basic needs and right now, their most appealing priority. Their eyes lidded in a halfway droop, their sugar-highs wearing off and leaving them weary.

They filed into the elevator jadedly, with Eleanor the closest to the panel of buttons that indicated the floor numbers. "Who remembers which floor we're supposed to go?"

"Um…is it sixteen? Eighteen, maybe?" Theodore answered with a yawn.

"I think it's seventeen." Brittany offered.

"Ugh! Which is it?!" Jeanette was slowly but surely losing her fight against crankiness induced by missing sleep and this 'discussion' about floor numbers was not helping.

"I believe it's eighteen." Simon argued. He was about to make his way to the panel to punch the number in when the elevator started moving on it's own accord, no doubt because of someone 'calling' it. Everyone realized this and groaned.

"What floor is it going to?"

Eleanor gazed at the reading briefly. "Twenty-nine."

They all sighed, trying to keep consciousness. They waited and soon, the elevator arrived at its summoning and a burly man stepped inside, almost crowding and hogging all the available space in the elevator. Without even missing a beat, the man punched the ground floor button, making the two trios head back to their original space.

Upon arriving, Jeanette nearly exploded when Simon's head sagged unto her left shoulder when he nodded off, still standing. She was about to shrug him off but thought better of it and roused him with a tap on the shoulder.

"Huh? Wha?" He looked up with a savage jerk that nearly had the chipette worried he might have broken his neck. Looking back to the buttons, he quickly pressed eighteen and slapped himself in the face lightly, trying to keep himself awake. They finally stepped out, only for someone to realize that the usual six was in fact, five.

"Wh…where's Alvin?" Brittany asked.

They all looked back to the elevator and saw said person sprawled out in the back corner of it with his back against the wall, asleep. They probably would have laughed, if they knew that it would **never** happen to them.

The doors of the lift started closing and they all slightly panicked. "Quick! Someone grab the door!" Simon half yelled.

Being the closest to the elevator, Brittany needed no second urging and immediately grabbed one of the closing suicide doors and prevented it from closing. The lift started reopening and she grabbed the chipmunk by the shoulder and armpit and tugged him out of the elevator as best as she could. Hardly were his feet clear of it when the doors closed again and the lift was back again on its merry way, consisting of only 'up' and 'down' choices.

The remaining Seville brothers promptly went up to their brother and relieved Brittany of her responsibility of helping her counterpart. They quickly took each of Alvin's arms around their necks and soon spotting their rooms by their numbers, they hurried to them. They were right across from the hall from each other. One shouldn't be surprised at this fact.

Jeanette hurriedly opened the door and was about to just head to her bed pronto but an instinct stemming from common courtesy forced her to turn her head to look at the boy trio who were just heading through their doors as well. Simon was also in the process of doing the same, looking back. All the others, (minus Alvin) started doing the same and Jeanette was the first to speak.

"Goodnight." She stated, with a slightly sad-looking smile.

Simon mirrored the smile but his soon grew wider and rather happier-looking. "Good _morning_."

The purple-clad chipette's smile became markedly improved and she was soon followed inside by her sisters. The boys did as well and both doors were shut at the same time. No sooner was it shut were sounds of the six sleeping soundly in their beds, completely 'unequipped' for bed.

 **With Dave, two hours later. (8:30 a.m.)**

He sighed as the elevator doors opened and he stepped out from among the other users of the lift. Easing his way from around a sweaty, portly jogger and taking great care to avoid touching the woman before the doors closed behind him, allowing the others to ascend or descend to their own respective floors.

He was now on floor eighteen and he suppressed a potentially gaping yawn, heading straight for the room that he shared with the boys. There were two double beds and a queen size bed in there and he knew that the same was with the girls.

He allowed only a single tear to flow down his cheek as he accidentally delved into the memory of that usual arrangement. He feared of what would happen and tries to whistle a tune while wiping away the salty liquid from his face. He was unable to even whistle properly, for his lips kept puckering incorrectly as he choked back a small sob.

Secretly, he wondered if the kids were any better off than he. 'I wonder how they've been holding up.'

He stopped in front of his room and dug into his pocket, searching for the key he had gotten for the door afore him. Finding it quickly, he pushed the key into the receiving knob and turned it. Satisfied at hearing the click, he now turned the doorknob and stepped inside. All of a sudden, slumber threatened to crash down unto him like a (full) cement truck and then kiss him as gently as-

"Keep it together, Dave." He muttered to himself, trying to keep himself awake. What had happened to the times he pulled consecutive all-nighters? 'Am I getting old or something? Hmm. The boys are now all fourteen, soon fifteen and the girls are the same. I guess that means…uh huh, I'm not gettin' younger.'

He unconsciously went to the bathroom first to alleviate the uncomfortable feeling of a bladder running out of storage space and washed his hands. He hesitated while in front of the mirror and looked over his reflection. He took off his cap and looked at his black hair. He could only see two or so white hairs and he plucked them out, gritting his teeth in the stinging pain that arose. He then looked at the corners of his eyes and smiled when he saw the absence of any sort of crow's feet. He then pinched his cheek to test his skin's elasticity and it snapped back a bit slowly.

The man frowned a bit. 'Huh. I wonder if it's 'cause taking care of them as well as being their manager that's stressing me out?'

There was no answer. Only silence.

Even though he had spoken mentally, he wondered what it would have been like if someone had answered him back.

He walked out of the room and headed back to the bedroom, noting how large the suite was. As he entered the bedroom, he saw all of his sons on the still-covered beds, still in their clothing they had had on the night before.

He wanted to get upset but decided that he could forgive them this once. 'After all, this is a Hotel, not their beds at home.'

He went to Theodore first and took off his shoes. He wrinkled his nose a bit and made a mental note to tell the boy to change his socks. He then rolled up the sheet from the side right up until he reached the chipmunk still sleeping. He then rolled Theo over that part of the sheet horizontally and finished rolling up the sheet, with all the skill of a motherly figure. He repeated the process with Simon, (minus the smelly socks) and took off his glasses, setting the spectacles down on the bedside table. He then went to the bed that he shared with Alvin (Queen size) and took off his cap that threatened to fall off his head. After doing so, he proceeded to remove his shoes as well and remove the top sheets.

Completing his fatherly duty, he went to the foot of the beds and regarded his sons. His _growing_ sons. At the age of fourteen ( & a 1/2), they were roughly four feet tall with the exception of Simon, who was always in the lead by a few inches. He suspected that the tallest they would ever grow to was five feet but he didn't care. Perhaps it was good for his ego and self respect if they always had to look up to him, both respect-wise and literally.

He was tempted to just go to sleep next to his red-clad son but he had similar duties to do next door. He had to.

The person to do this wasn't around, and he had to step in.

He left the hotel room and crossed the hall to the room next door. Soon, he unlocked the door to the Chipettes' room with another key and entered heading straight for the bedroom.

He had to do nearly the same exact process with the Chipettes, who had also neglected to remove their footwear in their haste to get to bed before exhaustion had fully taken effect. Although the only real difference was that Eleanor's socks was…more tolerable and the fact that Brittany did not have any headwear. And he wasn't sure how to remove her earrings without waking her up, so he let them be.

Finally completing the task, he left their suite, trying to avoid looking back lest he remember and partially succeeded. Soon, he went back to his room and sat at his desk.

He removed a planner from a briefcase on his desk opened it at the back to reveal a large map of the USA. Based on the colour scheme, it was originally all white, but several states were still white, some were yellow…

And the rest were red.

He marked an 'X' over Pennsylvania with a pencil strapped to the top of the planner and sweated a bit when he eyed New Jersey. He shook his head, noting that the state was shaded in a red colour and looked at the next state and recalled the location for the next concert.

The number of X's on the map had gained a brother in Philadelphia and before this was all over for the summer, two more will complete the list. Only…two…more…

His head drooped unto the desk and on the departing wings of consciousness, he pushed away the planner, making room for him to lay his head to sleep.

=X=X=

" _Ms. Miller? Did we sound good?" Eleanor asked._

 _The pink-wearing chipette started staring around wildly around. The leathery upholstery, the overpowering scent of pine air freshener, the breeze constantly streaming in…_

 _She was here…again._

" _Could you close the window, Brittany?" Jeanette asked. "It's messing up the bun in my hair."_

 _Without a second thought and moving as if she had no control over what she was doing, she grasped the now-worn rotating handle on the door clockwise, making the window slide upwards until it closed._

" _Thanks."_

 _Brittany nodded and looked into the rearview mirror, gazing deeply into the reflection of her adoptive mother's eyes as she spoke, still staring at the road ahead of her._

" _Your singing was top notch tonight, girls. I'm sure that everyone loved it."_

 _Brittany couldn't help but smile. No matter the reality, or how many times she heard it, she loved hearing the Miller woman compliment them. Perhaps that in an early version of her life she would have let the compliment go to her head but not here._

 _Not now._

 _Ms. Miller looked up in the mirror and saw Brittany looking at her. "Something the matter, dearie?"_

 _Brittany remembered what came next as the woman said this. She gazed out past the woman and saw glaring bright headlights that penetrated the front windshield and assaulted her vision. As she started to yell, muffled sounds were all that were heard as her mouth refused to open._

Her eyes exploded open and all that filled her vision was white, and a steady stream of waterworks.

'White? Am I… am I… dead?'

No.

She blinked and slowly came to realize that she was lying on her side. As she dug her hand beneath her and pushed herself up, she saw that the 'white' was merely that of her pillows on her bed. Her arm strength waned as she finally forced herself up into a sitting position and allowed her legs to hang over the edge of the queen sized bed.

Realizing quickly where she was, what she had done and the time that had passed, tears ran anew down her face as she recalled that whenever her adoptive mother and her sisters were abroad from home, she would share the largest bed with her.

But she was all alone in this one.

She brought up her arm to her face and wiped away the bereavement water with the back of her wrist and got off the bed. She tried to stand fully erect but she had to stretch fully first. After completely doing so, she stood 'tall' and straight, finally achieving a steady physical compass and gathering her bearings.

'Right. Food. And… my sisters.' She looked behind her and saw her fellow Chipettes snoring soundly in their beds. Using her better judgment, she decided to let them sleep for a little while longer. It had been a long night, after all.

She felt the ground under her feet and for the first time noticed that she was barefooted. 'Wha? I don't remember taking off my shoes before we just…dropped…into…bed.' She could feel apprehension dawn across her face as she thought about it. 'Dave. He must have taken them off. But what time is it?'

She glanced to the 'Classic' style clock on the wall. It was now 2 p.m. Feeling that some (late) lunch was in order, she found her bed slippers nearby and slipped them on. Soon, she was on her way to the nearest phone. Without further delay, she was calling for room service.

=X=X=

Jeanette's eyes opened slowly, as did the eyes of Eleanor. The girls awakened themselves more efficiently by immediately getting up and standing. One yawn and a stretch later, their clouded 'sleep' vision cleared up and they saw their aqua-eyed sister with a medium sized pizza in her lap (on her bed) and she was eating straight from the box, as the tradition and practice had demanded of it.

They practically teleported next to her, their stomachs making noise akin to a monster's growl. As Brittany regarded them, she gestured to two more boxes that was sitting on a table close by. Now knowing where they were, they still hadn't left her side.

"Green peppers?"

"Extra cheese and pepperoni?"

"Yep and yep." Brittany answered her sisters' one-worded questions. "As if I'd forget your favorite toppings."

Not even five seconds had passed properly when the fleeting time found the two standing chipettes in their beds with their pizza in their laps, leaning against the top of the bed. "So what time is it?"

Without even looking up, Brittany answered. "It's three fifteen, Jeanette."

The sounds of chewing pervaded the room as the three girls ate their fill of their pizzas, all of them stopping with only a quarter remaining. With a 'lady-like' burp, they ended the meal, and Eleanor graced it. In order to save space, they put all the remaining pizza in one box and discarded the other two in the garbage chute in the hallway before going back to their room.

"So." Brittany asked. "What's next?"

"I dunno." Eleanor answered.

"Maybe we should go do some running. Exercise if you wish. We need to tire ourselves and go back to bed. It's the _only_ way to correct our internal clocks." Jeanette took off her glasses, cleaned them with a corner of her shirt, and put them back on as she said this. The whole gesture made her look very intellectual.

And geek-ish. In a good way.

"So…running?"

"I suppose that should be effective. As soon as the food digests, we can run at five p.m., settle down for dinner at eight and go to bed by say, ten p.m. That should be good enough." Jeanette replied.

Eleanor nodded. "So, what _can_ we do 'till it digests, huh?"

Jeanette shrugged. "I don't know everything."

Brittany's eyes wandered to the 'living room' area of the suite, where she saw a gaming console setup underneath the rather large high-def television. Her eyes widened a bit as she recalled the memory of Alvin saying that he had had the hotel setup the console should an inconvenience prevented them from leaving the hotel. She was never a gaming fanatic like the red Seville but for now, she was grateful that he had thought ahead. Perhaps it might even prove to be an occupying distraction from…that.

"…Hey. I think I know what we can do."

 **Next Door**

His first emotion, was that everything was foggy. His mind was in a sleep-induced grogginess and he hated the feeling. One of the reasons why he was never a morning person.

Come to think of it, the elevator shouldn't be this comfortable. At least he knew that much.

'Uh…I…I… leaned against the wall inside the elevator. That's…that's what I did. But if that's what I did…where am I?'

He inhaled deeply as white surrounded him. Suddenly, the scent of vanilla assaulted his nostrils, the smell reminding him of a lotion that she tended to use more often than not. But… he had smelt this before. It was in his…

"Pillow?" He muttered, lifting his head. As he did so, he took in the features of where he was and realized that he was in his bed in the Seville's suite. With that noted, he came back 'down to earth' really quickly and shook his head, clearing all cobwebs from his consciousness.

He quickly rolled out of bed and made a beeline for the bathroom to relieve himself. Soon after, he took a brief and cold shower and he retreated from the room, sporting jean shorts and a red sweater-shirt complete with a hood with a large 'A' on the front. He decided that wearing a full-on sweater would have been impractical in the summer and wearing something thinner would be more practical. Regardless, a red sweater with his first initial was something of a trademark and even if he had to be immensely uncomfortable, he was going to wear it despite what weather or climate.

His stomach growled suddenly and felt as if it were trying to tie itself in knots. He glanced to the clock and saw that it was four p.m.

"Four?" He mumbled under his breath. "I feel like I could eat several dinners, but the time is only suitable for a snack." He suddenly grinned as no one had ever specified how light- or heavy a snack could be.

He was soon at the phone and calling for room service.

 **First chapter…finished.**

 **So… how did I do? Well? Poorly? Too much dialogue? Not enough intrigue? Good start? Poor development?**

 **Tell me! In a review that is.**

 **I've got this whole story plotted, all key points and all that jazz. All I need to do is to flesh out the characters, and extrapolate certain ideas and points. So writer's block? What's that? Don't have the disease, infection, virus, whatever it is.**

 **Should the chapter ever be late, it's because life got hectic. If I ever update late, I'll make up for it with more words.**

 **Valete omnes,**

 **MRAY 4TW.**


	2. Chapter 2

**AATC: Territory**

 **Something happened.**

 **For some reason, I can't view** _ **the**_ **review. That's right. Out of everyone to chance by to view the story, only one review was made and I can't even view it. I think F-Fanfiction has crashed or having some serious bugs but as to reviews… Entry - (12:09 a.m., 01/04/2016)**

 **Really? 'Territory' is not deserving or more reviews? Geez. Thought that even three would have been respectable but two? I wonder if I'm being too critical considering that it was the pilot chapter. I'll see where it goes for a few chapters more. After that, I guess reviews (or lack of it) may influence the story, be it for the better or for worse.**

 **Jake Miller, munkfeavor76, thank you. You guys are probably the only reason why I'm even putting out this chapter. Enjoy. Entry – (11:46 p.m., 01/06/2016 - 07:57 p.m., 01/08/2016)**

 **2.**

He smelt it.

Somehow, from far away in Dreamsville, he was brought back on the return bus Aroma, past the city of Half-Asleep and back to his hometown of Awakening.

The smell was extremely familiar, yet undeniably special. It was a myriad of majestic scents, all combined into one upon contact with his now furiously twitching nose.

Theodore snapped awake and nearly floated to the dining area of the expansive suite in his swooning. It was almost as if he was being carried to where the smell was coming from, by the very smell itself but Theo couldn't care less.

Upon entering the kitchen area of the suite, he saw the best, _the best_ spread of food on the table he had ever seen in his life. From ice cream and cakes to burgers and French fries, _that heavenly buffet_ was nothing to sneeze at. Especially in his current state, that of a hunger that was nearly supernatural at this point.

At the moment when he had the thought, the green-clad chipmunk decided that if anyone even considered the action to sneeze at it, he'd commit murder. No matter the amount of witnesses.

"Mornin' sunshine!" Alvin hailed from his place next to Simon around the other side of the table. "Simon, you lost. That means you owe me a favor!"

The spectacled chipmunk groaned while rubbing the back of his neck. "To think, I was only one minute away from winning."

Alvin grinned. "You should have known that ol' Theo here would wake up to the smell of food within ten minutes, no matter how deeply asleep he is."

"I can't argue with that."

Theodore took a moment to fully awaken himself with a small slap to the face, although it was more of an effort to make sure that he was awake and not asleep, conjuring up the buffet in his dreams. That particular case had happened already and the last time it happened, he woke up with a hunger that dwarfed the size of Texas.

He quickly rounded the table and sat in his place before gracing it, taking his time and closing his eyes to remain undistracted. Finally finishing, he reached for the nearest food item which happened to be a chicken burger in a box. In his hurry to get the box open, he tore the catch and soon had a gulp of the food already making it's descent into his stomach.

Soon finishing that, he reached for its brethren; the fries. But before his hand had completely made halfway of the journey to the fried potato sticks, he got his wrist slapped in a chastisement sort-a way, not in any way meant to actually hurt.

The offender was Simon. "Not all of it's ours."

Theodore had a small look of realization. "Oh! Right. Dave." He reached for the fries again, only for the same incident to repeat itself.

"What?" The starving chipmunk sounded extremely exasperated as he drew out the word in a half-sigh.

"The girls."

Theodore nodded and made another reach for it and got slapped _again._

He turned on Simon, growling in a feral-like nature and nearly scaring his brother. " _What…?_ "

"The lesser fortunate."

Before anymore could be said between the two boys, Alvin jumped in to clarify things. "Well, heh heh." He chuckled as he tried to alleviate some of his uneasiness. "Simon woke just as the hotel workers brought up the food. At first, he was getting upset-"

"Alvin… please. The amount of food here literally has more volume than us, much less the size of our stomachs. And it's not even dinner time. Even worse, it nearly all junk food. What's more-"

"I think we understand that part, Simon." Alvin chided. "I was excited at the time. You know how I get when we're around possibilities of getting nearly anything I want."

"But at what price?" Theodore asked.

The two brothers slowly turned to their brother, as if amazed by the few words he just spoke, much to his chagrin. "What? I don't always think with my stomach." He discretely reached for the fries and fought with himself to eat slowly; just in case that particular food item was meant for someone else so he didn't eat too much of it before he got caught.

The blue and the red had it out a little while longer before the red continued. "Anyway, I decided that-"

" _We decided._ " The blue corrected.

Alvin amended his statement and quickly continued. "All we don't and can't eat is going to the local soup kitchen."

"Can't eat?" Theodore asked, now eyeing the food in a state reminiscent of his earlier one.

 **25 minutes later**

The green wearing chipmunk sprawled out in his bed with the half empty carton of ice cream. He tried to spoon another helping of the cherry-pistachio half-melted dessert and just couldn't. It's not that he didn't want to; he really wanted it. It's not that he shouldn't; he had ignored his body's pleas to stop eating in the past, why should he now?

The reason was that, at long last, he ran out of storage space. At first, he thought of making some room, but things weren't that far along yet. The poor 'munk was nearly as round as a ball. T'wasn't his fault; his appetite was larger than his metabolic rate and the fact was looking bleaker and bleaker the more he tried to eat.

In the kitchen, Alvin pressed the 'end call' button on his cell phone and shook his head while he turned to Simon.

"They've already eaten."

Simon sighed momentarily before throwing his hands up in the air in exasperation. "What happens now? You order a ton of food, very expensive, no doubt; then, we have to give it away. Who's to pay for this?"

His brother only giggled proudly. "Simple. All I need to pay for this stuff this evening is everyone's signatures on one of my sweaters. That's the 'price' I haggled when I spoke to the manager. He wants it tonight and I agreed. I don't want Dave finding out."

"…"

Theodore listened to the conversation/ chastisement going on in the kitchen and wondered briefly what was going on in Simon's head for him to be that silent. Seconds later, he was brought back into his own body as his stomach protested deep inside him. He very reluctantly put the ice cream down on the ground at the foot of the bed and lay down on his side on the bed once more.

"Alvin…" Simon began.

"Yes?" the responder to the name answered eagerly.

"That is the most brilliant and reckless thing you've ever done."

The red Seville raised an eyebrow at the somewhat strange compliment, and admonishment rolled up into one. "What do you mean?"

"To do something like that," Simon started to explain. "Was smart in the sense of not using any legal tender which would make Dave upset. The reckless part of it is that having all of our signatures on a single item would make it a collectible, and we would only be able of creating one, in different ways, a very limited amount of times."

It took several smaller explanations for Alvin to understand and he followed the gist of it. He immediately wrote down the details of what he understood in his revered notebook that he sometimes used nowadays to write songs in before coming back to Simon.

"Well, in any case, we saved a pretty penny, we eat, help the hungry and best of all, Dave won't find out!" He half-yelled in self triumph.

He quickly snapped his mouth closed and turned around to face the area that his adoptive father rested his head and slept. He had half-expected to see him standing behind him, as was often in his life when he gloated to himself. It would have served him well back then to have some paranoia but the irony in this case was which he had some now, but it was unnecessary.

He refused to say anything more and quickly, from among the wide variety of food on the table, chose two hamburgers and a small cheesecake and set them to one side on a counter for his father while he continued to bag out everything else and place it in a fairly large box. Simon started to help him again midway through his task and neither said a word to the other until everything was packed away.

With everything said and done, the box of food on the ground was too heavy for the chipmunks to just lift and carry and in the end, all they could manage to do was slip one of Alvin's skateboards underneath it (his sturdiest one) and push the literal meal-on-wheels to the elevator. It was a fortuitous event when Theodore heaved himself out of bed and followed behind them to the elevator to join them, as if tethered to his brothers by an invisible leash. A ¾ minute of waiting and elevator music later, they were moving the food through the lobby and ignored all the stares and the sounds (and the occasional flash) of phone cameras and people talking in hushed tones…Alvin, Simon and Theodore were sure that this wasn't going to be the last they heard of this particular development.

Out on the sidewalk in the evening time, Alvin ceased his pushing and looked to Simon beside him. "Where's the soup kitchen?"

Simon took out his cell phone lazily and pulled up an app that plotted directions to the nearest soup kitchen in the area; luckily, it was within walking distance, or _pushing_ distance as the case may be.

"All right, I found one. It's called Charity Cooking and it's an easy travel distance."

"How far?" The green eyed chipmunk to the fore queried as he searched for any obstacles in the path ahead.

"It's on Penn Avenue. All we have to do is take the first right and go straight for around… five hundred meters. We won't even have to cross any streets."

"…" Not in the mood to stir up any sort of strife about distance and about who was pulling (pushing) the most weight, Alvin began pushing and took cues from Theodore who warned them about cracks and certain things like fire hydrants and such in the way. Simon stood to the sides and helped maneuver it by pushing and pulling at the front of the box; basically, Alvin was the engine, Simon was the steering wheel and Theodore was the turn signals.

And the whole way, their pictures were being taken and people were stopping and pointing fingers, as well as talking to each other, making a fuss.

The three chipmunks were used to having attention, or being the center of attention, so it didn't bother them. The fact of the matter was that this time, they were sure that they did not want it. Not to say that it was embarrassing. They only wished that the people would find something _else_ to gawk at.

"We're here." Theo said, looking up at the spray-painted sign. "What do we do now?"

"The last thing I want is more people staring at us. Let's just bring it to a backdoor, knock it and leave."Alvin muttered. Simon heard him and he agreed. Another reason why he didn't want to go through the front was because he was sure that the inside was filled with homeless people…un-bathed…unwashed…dirty…

His slight mysophobia (fear of germs/contamination) was already starting to act up. Sooner or later, his mind would start to think of a blown-up size of a typical germ cell he had once seen under a microscope at school. The thought was already making his skin start to crawl as he imagined that they might be crawling there…

He shook his head to clear it. "I say we go with Alvin's idea."

They did not question his trust in his red brother and promptly wheeled the box around the back in the alley. There were even people traversing around there as well, utilizing it as a shortcut. Although there were a few passers-by, it wasn't on the same level as walking along the main on the sidewalk.

Soon arriving at the steel back door, they ceased their trafficking. Alvin found a pebble nearby and started an incessant rapping at the door.

He felt this strong sense of déjà vu, as well as nostalgia as his 'prankster' side took over. "Run!" He scream-whispered to his brethren and started running himself.

Simon followed soon after, tailed by Theodore. They had scarcely rounded the corner back to the main when they heard a shrill cry.

"Hey!"

They took that as an urging to run even faster. They, of course were unable to sprint the whole way back to the hotel but managed to jog most of it, before settling down for a speed walk. Before long, they were reentering their suite via the door, only to see that Dave was still asleep with his head on the desk. They ignored him while they tried to slow down their heart rate by breathing more slowly. Each sitting on their own bed with their legs hanging off, Simon was the first to speak.

"The first time. The first time that we did something good, but went about it in what one might call 'the incorrect way'."

"But we helped people." Theodore said, albeit timidly.

Alvin let himself off the bed and went to his suitcase. Shortly thereafter, he retrieved one of his tailor-made sweaters and fetched a permanent marker from Dave's stationery bag. He stretched the sweater flat on a cleared table and signed his name on it with a bit of flair. Seeing what he was doing, and knowing their role, the other two chipmunks joined him and signed their names as well, all on the front.

"So, did you tell the girls that we need their signatures too?" Simon asked.

"Um… no."

"Gee. And here I presumed you had thought of all the details."

The red chipmunk disliked how Simon practically poured the sarcasm over his reply. "Can you go over there and explain to them? You're…uhh…what's the word? Starts with a p, I think."

"Practical? Proper? Polite? Pleasant? Persuasive?"

"Yeah! That one!"

Simon sighed while he moved from around the table. "Fine. I'll go talk to them. Geez." He made his way to the door and quietly closed it behind him.

Left alone with Theodore, who once again returned to his melting ice cream, Alvin walked around the apartment, trying to find a way to busy himself. In next to no time, he came upon Dave, still sleeping. His mischievous side came into being from being suppressed over time in full force, no doubt from the slight 'knock and run' classic that had transpired not fifteen minutes ago.

He considered for a moment what he could do to prank his father or his belongings but couldn't think of anything he hadn't tried already. It wasn't too long before his eyes rested on the book in front of the man and he took it up carefully, lest he wake the man accidentally. Perhaps the book could give him a clue as to what he could try. If worse came to worse, he could just scrawl some graffiti in it and deface it.

Having it in his hands, the book fell open to a specific page, partially forced open by a pencil that was inside used to mark a specific place. The chipmunk held the book in one hand and took up the pencil in the other and placed it securely behind his ear so he could free the hand from the responsibility of holding it. Gripping it firmly in both hands now, he scanned what seemed to be a map of the United States of America that took up a double-page spread.

He noted how there were three colors used in the color scheme; white, yellow and red. Based on how the colors were spotty in some areas and jagged in others, Alvin guessed that the map was originally all white before someone ('Probably Dave'. He thought.) colored them with chisel-ended highlighters.

"What the… what kind of map is this?" He muttered to himself in question. He glanced to the top and saw the word 'ROUTE' written in bold, block capitals done in pencil. That explained what the map might be about, but what was up with all the X's?"

The doorknob turned with a light rattle, startling the chipmunk. He hurriedly tried to think of a place he could stash the book in the limited time he had but could not think of a place suitable enough. In a radical moment, he pulled up his sweater-shirt and jammed the book halfway into his pants behind him and covered it up with his shirt, hoping that the fairly flat book would go unnoticed in its rather awkward hiding place.

The door opened and revealed Simon and the chipettes behind him. "I'm back and they agreed." He spoke up upon seeing his brothers.

Brittany pinched him on his left arm and he winced. "Mostly."

"Mostly." She agreed as she looked over their suite. "Lets make this quick so I can go back to winning."

Alvin tried to keep his cool as if he wasn't caught in the attempt of doing something impish. "Winning what?"

"I was playing Halo® against Jeanette and Eleanor." **[A/N: Everything about Halo belongs to Microsoft, Bungie, and all those game creator names we ignore in the credits. Sorry guys, we just want to play; you still make your money anyway.]**

That took Alvin by surprise. Brittany playing video games? Halo? Winning?!

The pink chipette smiled to herself when she noticed the Seville's flabbergasted expression. "That's right. Now then, where do we sign?"

Simon pointed to the table with the sweater on it. "Right over here."

There was a small argument about where on the item of clothing to sign, seeing that Theodore had taken the time to write a 'C&C' logo on the back with a marker, taking up all of the space around there. They were forced to sign their names close to the boys' own. Ironically, Jeanette wrote hers just under Simon's, Eleanor next to Theodore's and Brittany in an effort to have a sense of superiority wrote hers over Alvin's.

Said Seville only made a small fuss about it before going off to stand in a corner by himself, greatly perplexed. He just got the feeling that…for some reason, wasn't a 'jerk', a prankster or all-around trouble-maker anymore, especially to the girls. _Especially_ Brittany.

He hid things from her, set off firecrackers in her room, and just generally go out of his way to make her miserable. Not necessarily unhappy, just to make her fed up with his behavior. He was aware of that. He supposed that he calmed down after the incident around eighteen months ago.

He exhaled slowly, trying to avoid bringing up things that should remain where were- that is, buried. He was convinced that he calmed down during the events of and after the mishap, and he wasn't cross with himself that he did. She needed a shoulder back then, and sometimes, she still did.

When Eleanor ran to Theodore first to cry on his shoulder, he thought nothing of it. When Jeanette went to Simon soon after, he started asking himself questions. What would Brittany do?

She took a whole two months, staying by herself, never socializing, barely speaking to anyone. It was then he learnt a new word from Simon. The word _catatonic._

After looking it up, he just felt awful. Simply awful. He didn't wait for her to run to him.

His minds-eye started looking at memories of his past, while his windows to the world closed to avoid noticing anything distracting.

 _ **Flashback**_

" _Jeanette?!" He called loudly while knocking on the door._

 _The door finally opened to reveal the chipette, her eyes red and still seeping tears from the ducts in the corners. She lifted her glasses up and off her face while she ran her other arm over her eyes, wiping away the salty liquid. She looked badly disheveled; she must have fallen into the 'pits' again, as how Simon once put it. "Yes, Alvin?"_

 _Alvin hesitated and stuttered a bit over his next words. "Uh…I'm, uh, h-here to see Brittany."_

"…" _The girl ceased her sniffling briefly. "Brittany?"_

" _Um… yeah. Can I go in and see her?"_

" _Of course. Come in, come in."_

 _She stood to one side, allowing him clear passage. Once inside, she shut the door with a slightly resounding click of the tumbling locks, and he standing still, trying to gather his wits; observe everything._

 _The place smelt the same, the usual lemon-scented freshener was used twice a day and by the whiff of it, used for the second time not too long ago. The place looked the same, the place was completely immaculate; not a speck of dust was to be found anywhere, nor was anything not in the same way it was from ever since. Portraits and pictures on walls, trophies on mantelpieces here, cheap knick-knacks from gift shops there and so on._

 _But the feel of it… anyone could tell just from merely stepping inside the home._

 _The atmosphere was bleak, the feeling was thick with that of grieving. Even more importantly, the house was short one occupant._

 _He pulled his cap an inch lower over his forehead in an effort to ignore it, giving his face a shaded look. He had grieved also, and the misery of bereavement threatened to capture him as well. But he had to stay strong; he had to be a stronghold. If not for himself, then at least for the girl upstairs who needed one… badly._

 _He walked to the stairs and climbed it steadily, supporting himself on the railing along the way. He was soon at the apex of them and soon he was standing in front of the door, knowing that Brittany was on the other side of it. He readied himself for anything that could happen during his stay in there. Gulping at the implications, he knocked; slow and steady._

" _Brittany?"_

 _No answer._

 _He counted to five and called again. "Brittany?"_

"… _l…e…"_

 _He frowned. It was like he could barely hear someone (Brittany) whisper something but he couldn't tell from the low volume it carried._

 _He steeled himself. "I'm coming in."_

"… _l…v…m…l…e…" The whisper came again, slightly louder than before._

 _He ignored it and turned the knob. It rotated easily, no doubt due to excellent lubricant maintenance. He pushed the door open determinedly, all of a sudden eager to see her state. He hadn't seen her, or heard her for two months. Perhaps there would be something of a reunion._

 _As the door fully swung open under his control, he took in the sight of her bedroom. There was pink everywhere, just like the last time he had seen it, as well as plush toys in a nearby chair all arranged and seated neatly in a childish manner. But the air…it was thick with negative emotions. All of the pink and the toys and the other vanities he saw…now seemed like a huge façade._

 _His eyes fell at last on the girl seated around her desk, facing the window. Without further ado, he stepped fully into the room, hesitated for a single second, and then closed the door. He knew that there was no turning back._

 _Turning around again to look towards her, he walked slowly towards her, and picked up an empty chair along the way there. Finally reaching her side, he gently placed the chair beside her to avoid making any noise. He then sat in the chair before glancing sideways for a full second, and stared through the window as well._

 _From the second-long look at her, he noted that her right arm was still in a sling and cast, having been broken in the accident. She wore a simple white blouse and a pink calf-length close-fitting skirt with a few frills at the end. Her hair was not neglected, brushed and well kept as usual. Her face- was devoid of make-up. He expected that but her eyes…her aqua eyes were completely listless._

" _Hey." He spoke up._

" _Leave me alone." She whispered back, without even turning to look at him._

 _His eyes narrowed as he thought over possible complications, should he persist. He decided to continue- logic was thrown out of the proverbial window._

" _No."_

 _She did not reply._

…

…

…

 _They sat, staring out the window for three hours. Night had fallen a little while ago and the lights of the streetlamps came on at dusk, preparing to ward off the animosity of the darkness. It was half successful, and the light captured whatever territory it could, keeping it's foe at bay and banishing it to the shadows to remain._

 _Alvin decided, right then and there that he would not move a single muscle, no matter what happened. He'd sleep in that very chair if he had to make it clear that he wasn't going to leave._

" _Hey." He tried again._

 _She did not answer, but her left hand which was armed with a pencil came back up unto the table, and she scrawled more words in a notepad on it. The Seville knew she was right handed and thought that anything she wrote with her left hand was bound to be sloppy._

 _She wrote in an unsteady hand, but soon the writing tool fell out of her weak grasp and clattered to the floor. She sighed slowly, but otherwise did not do anything else._

 _She'd given up._

 _Alvin eyed the paper briefly. Amid all the untidy writing, he saw that she was writing a song, the lyrics forming what he thought was quite a moving one._

 _He reached down and took up the pencil. Leaning up again, he took her hand tenderly and placed the pencil correctly there, and closed her fingers over it. He then moved her hand back to the table, close to the notebook._

 _It was then and there, when he saw the tiniest trace of a smile come into being on her face, and he resolved to be there for her. For her._

 **This is the end of chapter two. I guess its fine, the flashback will continue next chapter before moving on with the story. What? You wanted 6k? Well, I'm still setting up the foundation for the story. The 'juicy bits' will get that length, when there's controversy. What's with the early update? Are you complaining?**

 **You shouldn't be. Instead, leave a review. Review, review, review. Please? I just want to know what you think- any feedback is welcome.**

 **Valete omnes,**

 **MRAY 4TW.**


	3. Chapter 3

**AATC: Territory**

 **Well folks, sorry about the tardiness. I'm currently experimenting with the idea of 'Universal Update', in which I update all of my stories in progress (and post some poetry) within a five minute time frame. 'Cause, you know how slow us humans work when it comes to clicking and such. Also, said poetry contains samples of songs I wrote for this fic. You should swing by if you're curious.**

 **I also let all of the people who read my** _ **Naruto**_ **stories know that I started this fic so you have no need to worry. This story practically has first priority. See you at the bottom.**

 **3.**

Brittany looked up from where she was chatting with the others. Somehow, she had only just realized that she hadn't seen or heard Alvin since she had signed his sweater.

Speaking of which.

She had thought the whole thing to be some sort of prank, all crafted and pieced together by the very same. She guessed that she should have known better.

Alvin…had stopped playing pranks. Entirely, as far as she knew anyway.

Her counterpart had completely stopped the very day he came over to her house. She knew that much because she hadn't heard Dave complain about his habit to fall into mischief ever since. Besides, his attitude toward her had improved. But she didn't know how to feel about that. Should she be glad? Relieved? Did she miss it?

In any case, she had had suspicions that the whole thing was a prank. That they were just bored and decided to just pick on the ol' ignorant Chipettes again. But it was Simon who came over to speak with them. He was a brilliant orator, had an impressive honesty streak, not to mention very, _very_ persuasive. According to Jeanette, at least.

After coming over, signing his clothes and chatted with the brothers awhile about possibly setting up a system link for game consoles, she had only now realized that the presence of Alvin had slipped her. How, she had no idea. After all, he was the so-called 'gaming enthusiast.' He would have had to be at the forefront for a chat like this, spouting off experiences and bragging at every opportunity.

"Hey guys." She interrupted Eleanor who was talking about her 'unfair last place.' "Has anyone seen Alvin?"

They all looked around, heads turning this way and that before Brittany herself spotted him standing in a corner with his trademark cap shading his eyes. 'He's just standing there, all by himself. It kinda reminds me of how I used to be.'

She absentmindedly closed her eyes and smiled, thinking of the time he came over when she was grieving.

 _ **Flashback**_

 _Having written another line, she let her arm sag at her side to let it rest- alleviating any cramps that might become or was becoming know for letting it remain on the table for so long._

 _It wasn't writer's block or anything like that. Every line she wrote, she ensured as perfect, to the best of her ability. While she was no poet, every line came from the depth of her emotions. She meant every word of it and it was her way of grieving. Not crying in sobs like Eleanor, not constantly sniffling like Jeanette, just by writing a song. Although emotional, it was starting to feel more and more like a eulogy._

 _Although the funeral was held last week, she wasn't sure if she cried during the service, or even since finding out about her adoptive mother's death. She just became the exact opposite of her character. She became silent, out-of-the-way, completely still…_

 _Basically, she became a certain variety of catatonia._

 _And then, as if to disturb her on one of her 'better days', she hears a knock on her door._

 _*Knock…knock…knock…* "Brittany?"_

 _She recognized the muffled voice from the other side to be Alvin's. Knowing what a troublemaker he was, and considering that she really did not want to be disturbed, she ignored the call. Five seconds later, he called again._

 _She frowned and decided to answer, hoping that he'd go away. "Leave." She wondered if he heard; her voice came out unusually hoarse. Perhaps it was because of a lack of use._

" _I'm coming in."_

" _Leave me alone!" She scream-whispered, fervently wishing that he'd just get out of her house. She did_ _ **not**_ _want to see him._

 _If he had heard her, he took no notice and entered regardless. Without even turning, she sensed and heard him shut the door and walk towards her, picking up one of her bedroom chairs along the way. He then took a seat beside her._

 _The chipette felt his eyes on her for about a second before she heard him tell him 'hey'. No doubt he was trying to start a conversation. She decided on giving her previous answer, still hoping that he'd leave._

" _Leave me alone."_

"… _No."_

 _She did not answer but instead continued to stare out the window, as she had done for most of the day. In fact, she continued staring through the window for three more hours waiting for inspiration to strike her and the poet inside her to word it perfectly. The strange thing was, he sat beside her the whole time and stared through the window as well, making just about the same amount of body movement as she had._

 _That is, next to none, save for moving eyes that peered through the window._

 _They had watched night fall before he told her 'hey' again. She paid it no mind but strangely, a new line, a new lyric came into her mind and she lifted her left arm again with the pencil._

 _She slightly frowned as she wrote. Her penmanship was horrible with her left hand and she could barely hold onto the pencil. '…without the ones I love,' She tried to write the words more carefully, but as if Fate was out to stop her, then spit on her efforts, the pencil fell out of her hand before she could even start writing the 'l' for 'love'._

 _She breathed out really slow in a sigh. 'Why bother? It's not as if this song makes a difference! She's gone! She's not coming back!' Her world darkened even more so and she barely registered the fact that Alvin was leaning over with his hand close to the floor._

 _The darkness seemed to encompass her, and she was now seriously close to just upping and losing her mind. And there was a grey spot…a perfect shade of grey at her hand. She didn't look down to see it- she just knew it was there._

 _And from then on, it grew lighter and lighter in color until it became white. When it did so, she became fully aware that Alvin was holding her hand and placing her fallen pencil back in it, before folding her digits over it in a grip. He then grasped her elbow tenderly, and another grey spot came into being there. He then moved her whole arm to the table where it was balanced properly and then grey spots emerged everywhere, finally becoming a brilliant dazzle of white before fading back to her normal perception of reality._

 _Alvin had helped her. It was completely unnecessary and significant at the same time. And even when she hadn't exactly been the most welcoming host, or even pleasant company, he had stayed._

 _She felt a twitch of a smile ghost her lips and she allowed it. Soon, it faded and she continued writing the line._

…

…

…

 _It must've been around three or four p.m. when Alvin had first arrived, and it was now ten p.m. She could tell that because the TV downstairs had gotten switched on to the news that announced it. It was probably Jeanette's doing. It would be soon time for her to eat. Yet another remnant of her descent into catatonia._

 _Her eating schedule was thrown out of whack; she only ate once or twice a day. It was either at eight a.m., or ten thirty in the night when the newscast was over and it switched to sports. She could feel herself losing weight but she didn't care. What mattered was the song. All that_ _ **mattered**_ _was the song._

 _And Alvin was here…still sitting beside her. It was getting late. He would either have to get picked up by Dave, or sleep over at her house. And the way things were looking at the moment, he looked as if he was prepared to sit in the chair the whole night. While she would appreciate the gesture, she doubted that he would actually be able to do it._

 _And yet…one hour passed, he watched her eat._

 _Another half hour passed, he got a sandwich from Eleanor and watched her while eating._

 _He remained in the room when she went to have a shower, and returned back to her bedroom in the necessary clothing for bed._

 _And he was still seated in the same chair._

 _She felt somewhat grateful, and unnerved at the same time, but didn't have the heart or the presence of mind to tell him to leave. Perhaps she was afraid of exiting her shell that she had erected around herself, or she was being selfish. She had no idea which. None the less, he was the last person to tell her good night._

 _And 'good morning' when she woke up the next morning._

 _She was honestly baffled. Why would Alvin go out of his way to stay with her? He had no obligation to. He had no right. He should have been in his own bed, in his own house. Instead, it looked as if he had spent the night in the chair, no doubt having watched her sleep or something, only God knew. He kept looking like he was nodding off, but he always jerked his head back to consciousness to stay awake._

 _She sighed. "Good morning, Alvin."_

 _He perked up again. Weariness marred his facial-features but he seemed grateful for the fact that she had answered his courtesy. The fact that he smiled showed that he appreciated it._

 _She walked to where he was sitting rather slowly. When she reached him, he stood up uneasily and groaned. Obviously, whether or not the fact remained that he had sat in a slightly padded wooden chair for more than twelve hours, he had to have been extremely uncomfortable. She knew the burning, aching feeling; it happened to her all the time._

 _Perhaps why she was about to do what she was going to do now._

 _She hugged him; it was rather clumsy and cumbersome with one good left arm and a broken right one in a cast, but she managed. As they faced each other, only she tried to look into his eyes while he looked like he was trying to avoid hers._

 _She stretched hers around his neck and shoulders, and he hugged her back in return during the latter part of her action, patting her back._

 _She rested her head on his shoulder and whispered. "Thanks Alvin. For being here."_

 _Tears finally started running from her eyes as the dam holding back her emotions finally broke; crying for the first time since learning of Ms. Miller's passing. Fully matured waterworks rushed from her aqua eyes and down her cheeks where they finally dripped off unto Alvin's sweater, the liquid starting to darken it with the moisture._

 _Alvin continued to pat her back but she remained crying on his shoulder for a minute, an hour, she didn't know. Time had ceased for all she cared. But at the end of it all, she gradually stopped and smiled._

" _Thank you…thank you…" She sighed as she brought herself back under control and started to come to much better grips with the situation. No doubt she'd grieve from time to time, but at the very least, she knew that others cared about her and she needed to let them back into her life._

" _Are you going to be alright?"_

" _I'll be fine, Alvin. I'll be fine. You should go. Go get something to eat. Go take a shower. I'll wait for you to come back." She had no idea why she said this but it felt right. Felt apt and suitable._

" _You'll…wait…for me?" He sounded surprised._

" _Uh huh." She moved on to kiss his cheek, before ushering him out the door. She heard him walk away about two minutes later and go down the stairs. When she heard him go out the front door, she rushed to the window, only to see him standing outside looking up to her. He waved tentatively and she mirrored the gesture. After what seemed for an eternity, he stopped, turned and left with nary a backwards glance._

 _ **Flashback end**_

'And he came back everyday, for a whole month. He stayed inside with me. We basically wasted our whole summer sitting in a room but he never complained. He was always there.' Brittany mused in silence.

Someone touched her shoulder and she reopened her eyes. Looking around, she saw Jeanette with her hand there. "Yes, Jeanette?"

"You looked like you zoned out." She sounded concerned.

"I'll be fine. Anyway, what do you think he's doing over there?"

"I have no idea. If anything, he's acting like how you used to…" The violet chipette remarked.

"Huh. I don't think so." She walked over to him and poked him in his side, almost as if in a tickle. It had it's desired effect as he came back to reality suddenly, almost angry. His perfect pool-water blue eyes met hers and they softened. "Hey Brittany. Did you really have to do that?"

She poked him again, albeit more playfully and he struggled to keep in a laugh. "Do what?"

"Gah! Stop!"

She persisted a few moments more before he completely surrendered. "Hah hah hah! I give! I give! What is it?!"

"Nothing." She smirked. "Although we were talking about setting up a system link, maybe connecting to Live®…"

He gained a smirk of his own. "I see. I have never lost a match."

She frowned deeply, making him relent. "I meant to say that I haven't lost a match in months."

"That's better. But anyway, we can play tomorrow when everything's set up. But me and my sisters wanted to go jogging or some exercise to tire ourselves. We need to tire ourselves and…how did Jean put it?"

"I think I get it. And by the looks of things, it looks like everyone's getting ready to change into sweats. Even Theo." Alvin pointed out. "I guess I'll come too. I don't want my parkour skills to get rusty."

"Park…what?"

"Look it up. That's what you got the internet for. I'm going to change as well. You should too."

"Oh." She stood where she was, making him groan.

"You…next door." He ushered her out after her sisters before turning around to head to his suitcase. Since he and his brothers were going to retain their underclothing, that is their boxers and v-neck undershirts, they started to change out in the open next to their respective beds.

Simon pulled on his pants and barely tied the lace to ensure it was slack, yet secure enough to stay on his waist. "Why were you standing in the corner, 'Mr. Loner?'?"

"I was… I don't know. I guess it was because I started to think about when you told me when Brit was catatonic. Did I pronounce that right?"

"Yeah. But that seems out of the blue. What, you like her?" Simon uncharacteristically wagged his eyebrows and grinned.

"What?" Alvin sputtered like a dying vehicle engine while his face reddened. "Its not like that! Besides, I don't bother you about how you seem to be extra close to Jeanette!" **(AN- Blushing- I'm not sure about the fur complications, but for the sake of argument, he blushed and it was noticeable. Besides, I'm dark skinned and people can tell when I blush. It's more in the facial expression than the skin complexion reddening.)**

"We're friends! I swear!"

Theodore finished tying his shoelaces. "Eleanor and me are best friends!"

"It's 'Eleanor and I are best friends' Theodore." The blue Seville corrected his little brother.

"What? She said **I** was her best-"

"No. I'm just saying what you **should** have said, Theo." Simon was quick to hammer the final nail to ensure his brother understood, before it escalated into a pointless argument.

Alvin on the other hand was grateful for the distraction that Theodore had created. He could have felt his face temperature increasing to heights rivaling an erupting volcano. That, and the fact that he didn't know what to respond.

He took off his cap so to not obstruct the process of removing his sweater 'Am I friends with her? I suppose that we are. I…t-think I care for her. I mean, I kept her company for the whole of last summer, even though we barely talked and all. That mean's something right?' He grasped the tails of his sweater and started pulling it up. 'Uh…she's got these really pretty eyes-' He shook his head to clear his thoughts to stop its train, while removing his shirt-sweater. "Easy there, Alvin." He muttered to himself. "Keep it together."

"Uh…Alvin?"

He turned abruptly to face his brother. "Yeah, Si?"

"Why do you have a book stuffed down the back of your pants?" He asked.

"Book?" He wracked his mind for anything pertaining to something like that before he remembered. 'Dave's book!' "I don't know what you're taking about."

"Its behind you. You just turned around."

Alvin made a show of looking over his shoulder. "Nope."

"Alvin…" Simon said with a tone that hinted a warning.

Alvin slightly shuddered. He hadn't heard that tone since he tried to tease about a potential relationship between him (Simon) and Jeanette so long ago. He hadn't dared to push him over the edge; he had always heard the phrase that the silent ones were always the violent when angry or impatient.

"Fine. I got a book that in my pants. Its between my underpants and my jeans. What about it?"

"Why do you have it? You wouldn't have it there if it were yours. Whose is it? I hope it's not mine." Simon's eyes squinted behind his glasses, theorizing in his habitual manner.

"Its…oh…uh…"

"Alvin?"

"It's Dave's."

Simon sighed and walked around the beds to get beside Alvin. Theodore who had heard what was going on between walked around them and joined them as well. Green and Blue watched Red take out the book for them to see. Blue took it from him and started leafing through it.

"It's been more than a year since you got into trouble, Alvin. I hope you didn't draw anything in it to make Dave mad."

"No, I haven't. Well, I was about to, when I saw this really weird map at the back."

Simon quickly flipped to the back page and the trio saw the double-paged spread map of the USA. They all studied it closely, but the spectacled chipmunk was the quickest to spot out the uniqueness of it.

"Uh huh. High-lighters. Very crude. Color scheme's unusual." He then pointed at the 'X' in Philadelphia. "It looks like he ticking off the places we've toured. But all of those states are white. And the only one that's not is yellow, not to mention it's Philly."

"What's with that?" Theodore wondered.

"Heck if I know." Alvin muttered. "And look at all the red states. They're the ones that are the most commercial, and they're closest to the coast too, like the Carolinas."

"We were supposed to go to New Jersey and Dave kept telling us that he didn't think we were going to go. Look; it's shaded red."

"Dang. I wanted to go there. I heard they had the best ice cream." The green Seville put in.

"That's Virginia." Simon commented.

"Oh! Never mind."

"Hmm. Dave cancelled concerts in three states, if I remember right…" Alvin trailed off. "That said, that means if we really don't get to go to Jersey, we're going to Virginia and Florida."

"Florida's red." Simon replied.

"We have to go!" Alvin hissed. "It's the last and supposed to be the most exclusive!"

"Uh huh. In Miami, right?" Theodore asked.

"Yeah. We. Have. To. Go!" Alvin scream-whispered, highly emphasizing his speech.

Simon gave the book to Alvin. "Here, hold it up."

"Why?"

"I want to take a picture. Future reference." He took out his phone and quickly took a picture. With that done, he put his phone back in his pocket. "Now go put the book back where you found it."

Alvin didn't hesitate. He went up to Dave and placed the book back in front of the sleeping man on the desk. But something didn't feel quite right.

'Huh. What did I do with the pencil in it?' He felt all of his pockets before he recalled that he had the pencil behind his ear. Taking the book back up, he stuck the pencil back in it's original place and finally put the book back for the last time. He went back over to his brothers.

"What now?"

"Well…uhh…" Simon looked towards his forehead in thought. "We gotta pretend we never saw it. But maybe if we ask some off-handed questions, we can figure out the map. Like if we ask why we can't go to Jersey."

"Yeah. But what about it that's so bad that he'd colour it red?"

"I don't know Theodore. We just have to assume that its bad because red is normally ominous." He saw the questioning look on both of their faces and added to his statement. "Red's normally bad news."

"Well, we still have to go jogging with the chipettes." Alvin said. "Lets do that and then we can sleep on it. But I feel like we're messing with something big. Dave's never done anything without a good reason."

"True."

The chipmunks finished changing into the proper clothing in the next three minutes. Simon penciled a note to tell Dave what they would be doing in case he woke up before they returned. They then left the suite and crossed the hallway to the chipettes own before Theodore knocked on the door.

"Are going to tell them about the map?" He asked.

Alvin thought about it for a moment before he shook his head. "Nah. It doesn't concern 'em. At least, not yet. When it does, then we'll do."

"You know, I was thinking Jeanette might have some ideas."

Alvin sighed. "Because that she's almost as smart as you? Gee Si, the rest of us aren't dumb you know. It's just that we haven't had the pleasure of eating a dictionary."

Now it was the glasses-sporting chipmunk to sigh. "I didn't mean it like that. It's just that while I'm textbook, she tends to think outside the box. You know what I mean?"

"Yeah." Alvin muttered nearly inaudibly. "I know what you mean."

The door was finally opened and it was done so by Eleanor. "Hey! I guess you guys are ready, huh?"

"Yeah. I'm getting fat." Theodore joked.

The chipette pinched his cheek and giggled. "No you're not. You're just big boned."

Jeanette walked up from behind her and picked up from where she left off. "And has a rather large appetite. Not to mention has been known as the 'Food enthusiast' by Simon, not to mention known by the remark 'makes sure that no food goes to waste' by Alvin."

"You guys said that about him!?" Eleanor asked angrily.

"Hey, he was the first one we told! Jeanette just so happened to be in the same room."

"What! What about when he once thought I was an alien when light reflected off my glasses to make it look like big white eyes? Or when he said he hadn't seen the top of Alvin's head in six months, asking if he was hiding a bald spot?! You didn't get angry with him!" Simon questioned back. It was clear that he did not like the green chipettes tone.

"Oh alright. Sorry." Eleanor then apologized. "Everyone better?"

"I don't have a bald spot. I'm only fourteen, for Pete's sake." Alvin mumbled but everyone ignored him. "Anyway, where's Brittany?" He spoke up.

"She was the last one to change. She should be done any minute-"

"Here I am!" The chipette announced, showing up suddenly."Lets go!"

"Hmm. Anybody realized that Brittany's wearing pink sweats, Jeanette's is purple, Eleanor's is green?" Alvin commented.

"The same way you're wearing red, Simon's wearing blue and Theodore's wearing green?" Brittany shot back.

Simon took out the special cords that attached to his glasses while Jeanette did the same, tying them securely to the back of their heads to ensure their specs didn't fall off of their faces. "For some reason, we're always wearing clothes or something that is of our favorite color. Personally, I think we must look like a rainbow every time we stand close to each other or something."

 **(AN- Weird, huh?)**

"Lets just go! I'm gonna leave you all behind to eat my du-"

"Alvin? It's a jog." Brittany remarked. "It's for endurance, not a sprint."

He groaned in response. "Let's just go."

One elevator ride later and finding the local park via asking for directions. They all started to jog along the pathway that ran the near boundary of it. Simon stated that he judged the entire boundary of the park to be around three quarter's of a mile, and they all took the info to heart. While not something daunting for someone who's tall, they were only four feet tall, and even shorter legs. Long strides were an impossibility.

"I'm guessing three laps should do it." Jeanette advised.

"Whatever." Alvin snorted. "Let's just go already!"

"Nuh uh. Warm ups." Simon wagged a digit in a 'tsk tsk' manner.

"Agh!"

Three more minutes of warm ups later, they were off. Due to force of habit and some previous parkour tendencies (he claimed to have later), Alvin started off a bit stronger than the rest, closely trailed by Simon and Jeanette. Brittany was practically at her middle-sister's side while Eleanor and Theodore brought up the rear. Everyone was decently spaced apart so as to avoid tripping over each other.

Alvin made sure to continue breathing as usual. It was a common mistake for beginning runners to hold their breath when running because they were tense. One such mistake he was guilty of as well. But running was him… he felt as if he actually turning the world with each step he made, like a log-runner. Even if this wasn't a race, he wasn't about to let the others finish before him. Pride and honor was at stake.

"Oi Theo! Don't try to suck in your gut!" He called behind him to his brother. "Just let it out and keep breathing deeply."

His brother couldn't believe that Alvin knew that he had that inclination. He heeded his advice. Hopefully, the slack clothing wouldn't pronounce his belly; perhaps help to hide it, even. From the sound of things, it sounds like Eleanor was starting to breathe more deeply too, learning from the correction like a student who wasn't called on specifically.

A light nearly blinded them all, appearing and disappearing just as suddenly.

Flash photography…always taking people by surprise.

"What the heck?" Brittany asked, looking to the side. "Wha' was that?"

"Someone took a picture. I don't think it matters if it wasn't high-def." Jeanette replied.

"Prepare for more. Just in case." Simon added.

But as usual, the red chipmunk had to have the last word. "Nah. Just try to look good everyone! No prob' there, right?!"

One lap later, Simon mused that they had had their pictures taken a total of fourteen times, if just the flash was the count. If not, the ones without flash had a far higher tally- one he did not particularly care to count.

"Oh geez. Two more laps of this?" Brittany muttered.

"Keep going!"

One more lap later, the green runners were close to passing out but continued regardless, anxious to keep up. Theodore wondered if all the sugar in his system was playing a part in keeping him on his feet. Eleanor managed well; dormant energy in her suddenly came alive, providing her with the 'long-suffering' ability to continue. That and the fact that if she stopped, she would have been the brunt of some joke in the social media.

"We have to keep going, Theo." She whispered.

"I know." He wheezed back.

The others were holding up alright. While they were exhausted on varying degrees, Alvin seemed to be the peppiest still. Not to mention the freshest.

Brittany and Jeanette were also close to stopping but continued, barely drawing enough oxygen to assuage their aching lungs. Simon held close to Alvin, but only to make sure that his brother stayed close to them. Every time it looked like Alvin was about to speed up, Simon would tap his shoulder to remind him to correct himself; at the risk of throwing himself out of the proper stride and his acquired rhythm.

All of as they turned the bend, Simon veered off to the side. "We're done."

"Huh?" Alvin stopped running. "We are?"

The green chipmunk and chipette stopped running and let themselves fall onto the grass to the side on their backs. "Oh…thank…you…" Looking on, Jeanette wondered if they just fell asleep before even finishing the last word.

"Yeah. We started at the bend. We just passed it for the third time." Simon said matter-of-factly. "Lets just catch our breath and go back to the hotel."

"What's stopping us from going now?" Alvin retorted.

"Your brother and his best friend decided that now would be an ideal time for a nap."

Alvin threw up his hands in exasperation and defeat before going over to a nearby park bench. Now that he had stopped, he had only realized that he was out of breath too, weariness had caught up with him. No doubt he would have stopped before running another seventy to a hundred meters.

His head slumped down, bracing his upper torso by his elbows on his thighs. As he started to take deep breaths to help steady his heart rate, he felt a shadow fall over him.

"Mind if I…join you?" An all too familiar voice asked in a slightly wheezing tone.

"Sure Brittany." He slid himself from the middle over to one side, still looking down. He felt the air shift around him as she sat in the empty spot, vibrating the seat already also.

They sat for a minute before Brittany spoke up. "So… you won the race, huh?"

He looked up to stare at her. "What? That wasn't a race."

"Sure felt like it, the way it looked like you wanted to just run and leave us behind. I could see that Simon had to touch you on the shoulder as if to say, 'hey, don't forget we're here'?"

"I guess it's because I'm used to running on my own, I guess."

"Don't you mean running away?"

He caught on quickly to what she was saying. "Hold up! I haven't got into trouble for like, a year now! Besides, I said I like to free-run in parkour."

"What's that?" She asked, still not knowing what it meant.

"I said to go look-!" He glanced at her, looking sorry that she had asked him and he mentally kicked himself. "Sorry. You see, parkour is like mixing Track events from the Olympics with gymnastics. And doing it in an urban and most often unsafe area."

"Like what?"

"Like say, jumping and vaulting over obstacles, rolling when you fall from somewhere higher than normal, stuff like that."

"Oh! Well, it looks like Jeanette and Simon's waking up Theodore and Ellie. We should go." She observed.

Gathering together for the last time, the six headed home. Along the way, they could see even more people taking their pictures and most of them grimaced. With clothes and hair out of place, they must've looked a mess. Theodore had to remind himself to keep his tongue in his mouth to not pant while the chipettes all retied their ponytails in an effort to look more orderly.

"For the love of- Why are they taking so many pictures!" Eleanor fumed. "We don't even get this much from paparazzi!"

"That's the thing." Simon noted. "They're not curious, asking questions or jeering us. It almost feels like a graduation ceremony or something."

"Getting our pictures taken is normal. Smile Eleanor!" Alvin encouraged.

"Easy for you, Mr. Photogenic! Are we on a parade or something?"

"They look happy with us Ellie." Theodore said. "That's a good thing, right?"

"What the heck? Is that a reporter tailing us?!" Jeanette exclaimed.

"Holy heck. That's how it starts. One shows up, before the start to multiply." Simon answered.

"Beat feet, everybody!" Alvin took off, but this time he heeded his speed.

They all took off in a sprint to their hotel, but at the front entrance, there was a massive crowd of photographers with flash bulbs attached. There were also four news-vans parked outside, one even halfway on the sidewalk. Obviously all of them were parked illegally, but for now, they were getting away with it.

Luckily, they haven't been noticed yet and they paused, catching their breath and to come up with an idea to dodge them. None were good enough, unfortunately.

It would be another two minutes before they steeled themselves to go through the crowd.

"There they are!" The first one to spot them approaching was a lanky young man at the back who had failed to get to the fore earlier than his competition. Now, it looked like it would be his good fortune as he ran up to meet them partway. "G'd evening! I just wanna get some words from you all about the food!"

"Food? What's there to food besides eating it?" Theodore wondered aloud.

By now, all the reporters and the few paparazzo photographers had swarmed them, penning them on all sides.

"Why'd you do it?!"

"Do what?!" Alvin yelled back.

"They're now calling you the 'Charity Chipmunks'! How does that make you feel!"

"How much did it cost you?! Did you take the price into question?!"

"I'm not getting an ill vibe!" Brittany had to shout to make herself heard as cameras dazzled her eyesight. "If they wouldn't jostle around with me so much, I'd call this the best paparazzi I ever had the pleasure of seeing!"

"That's the thing! They're just reporters! Paparazzi only take embarrassing pictures of you that's scandalous!" Jeanette yelled to her.

By now, Simon had pieced the puzzle together. "They're talking about the food that we gave away!"

"What food?!" Eleanor yelled the question before she searched her memory for something relating to that. "You mean the food that-"

"Yeah! That one!" Simon interrupted. "We can't stop! We need a distr-"

"Hey look! A policeman stealing an old woman's handbag!" Alvin screamed.

It had the desired effect as all the reporters turned to look for what could be a judicial scandal. They didn't see any such thing after staring all around for it. By the time they turned to the Chipmunks and Chipettes again, they were gone.

"Where'd they go?!"

"They must be in the hotel!"

The reporters bomb-rushed the entrance, practically fighting each other to be first. Finally, they all streamed to the front desk to a bored looking middle-aged receptionist who seemed to be playing Angry Birds® **(AN- I don't own it. But I can't stop playing it :D)** on her phone to pass the time.

"We need to see the Chipmunks." The reporter closest to her asked. "Which room are they in?"

"It's against the hotel's policy to release guest information." She said in a bored monotone.

They all made an uproar about that before the receptionist minimized her game and started to dial a three-digit number, judging from the beeps.

"What are you doing?!"

"Calling the police. You're disturbing the peace."

The woman's face broke out in a smile as the reporters practically blinked out of sight. When they were all gone, she resumed sending kamikaze birds to avenge stolen eggs.

 **And that's that folks. This chapter felt kinda if-ish but I decided what the heck. Next chapter, they all move on to a new state and that's where the story really starts. Anyway, in the future when romance starts, I don't want anyone telling me about colors or eye pigmentation and all that. I'm not a GIRL! You say lavender, violet, I say PURPLE**. **You might say azure, cerulean, I say BLUE! (I try to extend into 'fancy colors' though. I try.) I already made a huge fuss thinking about eye colors so if you're surprised, let it be.**

 **As for relationships (right now)-**

 **Alvittany are friends. Brittany sees him as a 'stronghold', someone she can lean on. He on the other hand, feels obligated to care for her and is slightly crushing on her. Seems fine to me right now.**

 **Simonette are good friends. They share many habits, hobbies, cares and such. Yeah, perfect for a couple but right now, Simon's a 'follow the textbook' guy, physics and such. Jeanette is like a 'to heck with the textbook' girl, always wanting to try new things. One spouts facts, one's creative. I hope she's not too OOC, but I need her to be that way.**

 **Theonor are best friends. Obviously their ties with food is the biggest deciding factor in it. One's overly kind, the other can be overly aggressive if needs be. One eats what one cooks. One's naïve while the other's got a lot of common sense.**

 **About certain words…**

 **This is T rated. Right now, the words are K, but as the antagonist shows up, the words will up to 'hell', 'crap' and 'damn.' That shouldn't be a problem. Besides, two of those words are in the Bible (used heavily by kids growing up in church) and the word crap… I think that's upwards of 14+ years.**

 **If the situation gets really serious, I'll use the word 'sh*t'. After all, if you were to get shot in the stomach, would you be yelling 'Crap! I got shot in the gut!'? It's still censored anyway.** _ **For now.**_

 **Anyway, that's all. Don't forget to review. It's good for morale. It also lets helps me ignore cramps in my hand.**

 **Valete omnes.**

 **MRAY 4TW.**


	4. Chapter 4

**AATC: Territory**

 **Hmm. Well, the UNIVERSAL UPDATE experiment was a success. It allowed me to completely rewrite my timetable so I can type my 'large quota chapters' in my lesser busy weeks, and write the 'small quota chapters' in my busy ones.**

 **For you, one chapter during one of my busier weeks. Take it so I can get on over to another.**

 **In order to refrain from story filler, some useless details will be culled, and metaphorically destroyed.**

 **4.**

The door was open and shut in three seconds.

Not very impressive, but one had to take into account that time was required to open it, allow _six_ persons passage, and then be closed.

Unfortunately when the door was slammed shut, it alerted a certain someone in the kitchen who was eating his dinner while on his laptop that his family was back.

His mood was fairly neutral.

"Alvinnnnn!"

To a certain degree, that is. It depended on whom you asked.

"Hey Dave! We're home!"

"Don't slam the door!"

There was a quiet mumbling as the chipmunks and chipettes came into view in the kitchen. "What was that?!" Dave asked. He hoped that his red-loving son wasn't back-answering him.

"He said that you shouldn't be yelling like a lunatic in the Hotel." Theodore spoke up in a submissive sounding tone.

"Thanks a lot, Theo." Alvin muttered. "If I wanted him to hear that, don't you think that I would have said it louder?"

"Um, before this tension escalates out of hand, how was your day, Dave?" Simon asked. He had learnt in the past that the easiest way to distract Dave from (Alvin's) troubles or problems, Dave would have to bemoan his own. Regrettably, it meant that he would become a venting post because Dave more often than not had bad and hectic days.

"I spent it sleeping. But thanks for asking, anyway."

Simon mentally sighed, but still hoped that the versus between Alvin and Dave was still quelled. It was, as Dave just let it be.

"So I wake up, find a note that said you were all out jogging, found a chicken sandwich and some fries on the table…thanks, by the way."

"You're welcome." The chipmunks chorused.

"Uh huh. Then I log in to access my emails, and I'm suddenly assaulted electronically by tons of mail containing pictures, video links and the sort, all titled the…'Charity Chipmunks'?"

They all gulped in unison. By doing so, it was distinctly audible.

"Explain. _Now._ "

Ten minutes worth of explaining later, Dave didn't know what to feel like. He didn't know if he should be angry for Alvin ordering so much food, or proud of him (and Simon and Theodore) for donating it. If he should be happy that they didn't seem to have done it for the attention, judging from their reactions, or lack thereof when they were captured on video and pictures taken in the act. Or be happy that he didn't have to pay for the food; judging from the size of the box, would have cost him an arm, a leg, and a couple of organs.

Or angry that a single piece of clothing was now very expensive, and possessed all of their signatures, making it a 'costly-collectible'.

Dave sighed with a deep-seated groan. "My head hurts. So much. So very, very, _very_ , much."

Alvin tumbled over his speech in nervousness. "Um. Dave? I'm…I-I'm s-sorry for uh, d-doing this behind your back. We should have just asked for your permiss-"

"Nonsense!" Dave declared. "That which you did was the best thing I've ever known you to do."

"But we-"

"Ah, quit talking 'n come here." Dave smiled broadly before opening his arms wide and dropping to one knee.

The six looked to each other with a bit of unsure emotion before the three chipmunks walked forward and allowed themselves to be hugged. The three boys weren't sure what to feel, but any day they didn't get into trouble was a good day. Dave's wrath was not easy to bear.

"Oh! Look at my sons! They're growing up…"

"Dave? Are you crying?" Theodore asked, unbelieving.

"Never mind that!" Dave looked around. "Say, where're the chipettes? Weren't they just here?"

The hallway door gently closed behind the chipettes, and it marked their exodus, as well as being by their lonesome for the rest of the evening.

 **Next Door, Chipettes' Suite**

Jeanette headed straight for the bathroom to be by herself while Brittany let out a long and low sigh. Looking to her left, she saw Eleanor looking as if she wanted to cry. The pink-wearing chipette patted her back but sad to say, the effect wasn't as potent as she'd hoped.

"They don't even know how good they have it. They still have a parent!"

"He's our parent too, Ellie." Brittany consoled. "He took care…he _takes_ care of us too."

"He's obligated to, and you know it!" Eleanor started bawling. "They take him for granted!"

"Dave loves us too. I'm sure of it." Brittany tried to comfort her youngest sister, but the green shrugged off the pink. "Eleanor, listen! Just think of the amount of times when he offered to let us stay in his house, and we kept telling him no. How he offered to help feed us and we kept telling him no. How he offered to adopt us too and we kept telling him no! We're the ones at fault, not him!"

"He could've tried harder!"

"Do you even hear yourself? Despite all of that, he offers to take care of our taxes, does the shopping for us, and makes sure that he visits us, or he tells Alvin, Simon and Theodore to when he himself can't. He loves us too. You know that!"

Eleanor paused in her emotional fit to consider what Brittany had said. All of that was true. Especially in the case in which Theodore always went out of his way, especially inconveniencing himself to come visit her whenever he could, often times in tandem with Dave himself. She smiled a little, but it soon fell into oblivion.

"We couldn't allow ourselves to be adopted. It'd be like we were insulting Miss Miller's name if we dropped it for the Seville name."

Brittany frowned. She had immediately shot down the adoption idea when it first came up, and all the other times following. She had been the only one to do so, when Jeanette and Eleanor had been perfectly 'OK' with the idea. They got along perfectly well with Simon and Theodore respectively, but she herself decided that she wasn't up for the idea. Most likely, it stemmed from the issue of her being Alvin's sister, or something of the sort.

And she wasn't entirely sure she was alright seeing him that way.

Of course, it was selfish of her at the time, holding back her sisters as well when they had wanted it. She didn't want it, but in an effort to please her in a 'please don't get depressed' sort-a way, they agreed with her. And that's why they were still 'alone.'

 **=X=X=**

He was king of the world.

Vincent Murray was a man of many titles. He was a man of many emotions, many stances, many fronts, and many names. But right now, he was known as...

"THE GREAT RAPPIN', RAVIN' RAVEN, EVERYBODY! HERE COMES THE GOD OF RAP-METAL!" The MC announced, nearly yelling at the top of his lungs into the microphone.

Time slowed down as Vincent scrutinized everything on the planet at once as he walked unto the stage in his usual swagger. He saw the flash of camera lights. He saw the occasional insecticide can spitting fire like draconian beasts. He saw the dark complexion of his wrists that told stories of African-American ancestry. He saw the band members on stage, all armed with electric guitars and drumsticks, ready to use them until their destruction by the end of the concerts. Looking down briefly, he noted how the raven insignia on the chest of his clothing looked like a bloodthirsty scavenger as normal but it was his friend. It was the theme he built his name, his entire career on. He was…

"Hey yo! Ravin' Raven, y'all!" One of the guitarists yelled.

Vincent nearly scoffed. He didn't need an introduction. Everyone knew who he was. There was no where on the planet where his reputation did not precede him, and from the looks of tonight's concert in New Jersey, they knew it also.

Wait a minute.

'This was supposed to be _sold out._ Like completely _all out_!' He fumed in his mind. Hadn't they advertized enough? Everyone of his concerts had sold out thus far, what the hell was up with all of the patches in attendance?

He took the microphone from the MC and soon, his amplified voice was blaring through the multiple speakers set up at strategic points to get the best output and performance. "Ravin' Raven! That's who I am! Don't need no explainin'! No questions asked!"

That rhyme came easy to him. It had to be. But it still felt a bit forced, not as fluent as the early days of his career.

If it didn't, it would have been a sure sign that he was washed up. A failure to stay ahead of the times. He was still ahead of the competition. Ahead of originality as pertaining to sound, and genre.

"'Straight Answers!'" Fans yelled out from in the crowd.

The man grinned. His latest single to sweep the nation. It had already made him _a lot of money_ , and would continue doing so, so long as these people continued yelling for it. He would give it to them. So he began; the band behind him quickly started as well, playing their instruments as if it were a religion to them.

" **Tell me the answer! Yes or NO!**

 **Don't answer me 'Why you ask me so?!'**

 **Did you steal this?! Kill that man?!**

 **Don't respond,"** Ravin' Raven held out his mic to the audience who were already in the mood to answer.

"' **Don't ask me that question!'"**

" **You dance around the issue, don't you**

 **Know how bad that makes you look?**

 **It's a simple query, don't delve**

 **Into a metaphorical pot of lies you can cook!"**

Vincent took a deep breath to start the rap portion that was yet unnoticeable. Time to use the gift he had developed since he was a child.

 **Where were you, well, at first I took a bus from here to there, stop! Just Stop! Do I look like I care?! Just be pinpoint specific! Don't spout off distance of how far and near, did you do this? Um, I was in this area, minding my own business, Stop! Just stop! Straight answers are what I need! Just tell me whether or not did you do the deed?!...**

He continued on his role, but somehow, the feeling nagged at him that he was losing his place. Perhaps he really was king of the world.

Was…

…

…

…

Lamar finished rolling the joint carefully and handed it to Vincent, who he lightly ran his tongue over the exposed flap and sealed it. Satisfied that his service was concluded, the overly-large security guard went back outside and stood just in front of the door to the lounge. Seeing the usual fans and paparazzi that swarmed the area, he flexed his muscles a bit while growling, crossing his arms. The onlookers dressed back a step, noting how the man's clothes, particularly around his biceps and triceps threatened to tear through the fabric of his black t-shirt.

The intimidation served well, as the fabric tore in two along the seams. The paparazzo free-agents got out of there in a hurry, noting how the man's arm was larger than their own heads. Lamar smirked as he saw this, wondering how his charge was holding up inside. He probably wasn't high yet, but when he was, the man was like a prophet inspired, lyrics came to him like breathing. But hell, he hoped that he'd still have even half a mind left to pay him.

But he didn't care. That was his whole point of becoming the beast of a man he was today. To look out for Vincent.

They were both nobodies from an orphanage. Vincent was picked on for his smaller stature, but Lamar himself must've had bulls for parents, and derided a strange sense of enjoyment and purpose by beating people to a bloodied pulp. The same problem persisted until way in high school, when Vincent found that he had a talent for 'Speed-Speak', as Lamar liked to call it. Vincent soon began using the talent to insult people in rapping freestyle battles, and Lamar remained close by in case the loser decided to get physical.

Constantly beating people into the ground kept him away from the school on suspension, and he grew up to be what was known as 'dumb-muscle', as other people liked to term it. But Vincent never saw him that way. It was always like a brother, and each using their talent, fought their way to be where they were today.

But he had noticed that the crowd seemed a bit diminished. Something had changed, somewhere, somehow.

Inside, Vincent finished the joint and tossed the stub into the trash, before writing another line for a future song. As he did, one of his female groupies on her laptop was watching videos on YouTube® finally clicked on one that was recommended and pulled up what looked like an amateur video of what looked like three kids pushing a box on a skateboard.

"What are they doing?"

The drummer who was nearby twirling his drumsticks to pass the time looked over to where the girl was making a fuss. "What is it?"

"Looks like…three kids pushing a box."

"Boring. Dislike." The drummer called. He twirled his sticks around his index, middle and ring fingers expertly before tossing it, demonstrating to all his prowess.

Vincent looked up. "Is it trending?"

"Yeah." The girl answered.

Vincent sighed. "Maybe it's a jump-scare, or some hilarious accident happened. Lemme see."

The girl pushed the laptop over to him in the pass and Vincent restarted the video and begun to watch it. He waited for the sudden scare or mishap, but no such thing happened. He studied the kids and realized that they weren't regular children. Glancing at the name of the video, he suddenly realized what, or rather _who_ he was looking at.

"Chipmunks, huh?"

The groupie leaned over and peered at the screen. "Chipmunks? As in 'Alvin and the Chipmunks'? I know about them. They do covers from time to time but mostly their songs. They've got their own unique sound, too."

"You listen to 'em?" Raven asked, incredulous."

"Yeah."

"Sell-out." The drummer muttered.

"Don't get cross with me." The girl replied. "Am I not allowed to listen to other people? You guys don't do every genre, you know. These guys, and the Chipettes they're touring with can do nearly every genre. Something about their higher pitch and melodic sound makes it possible, I guess."

"Higher pitch?" Vincent opened another video in a new tab, this time searching for the tag 'Chipmunks Concert.' An incredible amount of videos came up with different qualities, dates and thumbnails., 'Vintage', Amateur, songs with lyrics, but he clicked on a high quality one that was tagged 'Official.'

Time passed quickly as Vincent pored over the videos, analyzing the Chipmunks and Chipettes. It was when the groupie asked him how he was doing when he was brought back to reality. And felt his first emotion in doing so.

"So this is what the fuss is about?! People like this crap?! So they got special voices. Big deal! I haven't seen them do anything meaningful. The lyrics are 'soft', they barely have any fluency or fantastic timing, the logo is bull, and if that ain't enough, they're just kids in an unforgiving trade!" Ravin' Raven fumed as he pushed the laptop back to the groupie. "Not to mention, they only perform in 'Podunk' nowhere places, and people are into them?!"

The girl had gone back to the original video and finished watching it. "Well, at least I know why a video with low res like this can have fifteen million views in one afternoon. They gave the food away to some kinda soup kitchen. And they look like they were trying to do it discretely, without looking for attention. Aww…"

Vincent nearly blew up.

"What the hell is this nonsense?! Don't tell me-"

The groupie shoved the laptop towards him, and clicked the refresh button. As the deed completed, the fifteen million view count un-mistakenly jumped to sixteen right before his eyes, and Vincent shut up for the rest of the night.

...

…

…

Throughout the whole night, sleep eluded Vincent. All he could think of was the fact that the six were in Philly for their most recent concert. Was…was that the reason for his lack of a full and crowded audience in New Jersey? While still a fairly good distance, the Chipmunks were touring from way over in the Western states, a full country between them. He himself normally played for the eastern side, like the selfsame Garden State, Pennsylvania on occasion, the Carolinas, but Florida was where his home was. That was where he built himself. Everyone knew that he practically had the state in the palm of is hand music-wise.

A full tour. That's what they were doing.

Perhaps he could…

 **=X=X=**

The morning passed fairly normally for the touring group.

"Me first!"

"NO! ME!"

"GET OUT OF THE WAY, BRITTANY!"

Dave sighed. He loved them all; he really did. But the same thing happened every morning. Every **single** morning. It had a particularly nasty streak, and it was yet to be broken. If they wanted to be first, why couldn't they just wake earlier than their own siblings. Instead, he had to listen to-

"You used it first, yesterday, Eleanor! It's my turn to be first!"

"No way, Brittany! You take an eternity to get out! Let me!"

They were very audible. And that was across the hall, through closed doors and some curtains.

He should count his blessings. While the boys could be just as loud, they weren't as fervent. Especially Theodore who just let everyone else use the facilities first.

"Simon! Don't you dare go in the bathroom before me! Last thing I want is for you to go reading in there again!"

"What?! What about you playing your video games in there?! Besides, I just want to shower!"

Dave groaned. "Just flip a coin and be done with it. Why can't you just be more like Theodore, huh? He's content to wait."

Alvin retrieved a coin and flipped it. "Heads!"

"Tails." Simon announced.

Around three seconds later, Alvin was begging Simon for best two-out-of-three, but the spectacled chipmunk wouldn't have any of it. He just walked in, and closed the door behind him.

 **One hour later, when everyone** had showered and had had their breakfast, Dave sent Simon next door to call the chipettes over, mentioning that he had 'some things to discuss.' As soon as they were retrieved and all sat down, he began.

"Alright, now that everyone's here, I've got some important things to talk about. It's not about yesterday, but it has to do with the tour."

All three of the chipmunks could hear their hearts beat a little quicker. Quickly glancing at each other, Simon voiced the question that had nagged at them for most of the previous evening.

"Are we going to New Jersey? I still don't see a reason not to."

"No, we're not going to Jersey." Dave answered firmly. "The…hmm…the touring schedule wouldn't allow it. Remember that you're all returning to school in the fall."

'Hmm. Sounds like a fair excuse. Plausible, but still a good reason. Time to see if the rule applies to Florida.' "So we're still touring the remaining states, right? We do have our climax in Miami down in the south, after all."

Alvin could barely contain himself. 'Atta boy, Simon! If I didn't know what he was trying to find out about, I would have never known that he was questioning me about something suspicious!'

"Err. I'm not too sure about Florida, on a whole." Dave answered, stumbling a bit. "I was thinking Virginia, and that's it."

"Its just one concert for each state. We still have at least two weeks before school starts, and we can just fly home. Plenty of time." Simon pressed.

"I…suppose that it's possible. It's just that…" 'Hmm. What to say…?' "I want you all settled in and ready for school by the time we get back home. Music isn't life, you know."

"I beg to differ." Brittany interjected. "Music _is_ life. At the very least, it's an important part of it!"

"Same here." Jeanette added.

"Ditto!" Eleanor jumped in.

"I agree." Alvin muttered. "Besides, it's something that we enjoy doing. I've heard the saying that if you make your hobby your work, then you never have to work a day in your life."

'He's so…ignorant of the music business. That might apply to other areas of life but the singers are slaves to the fans, and are constantly competing with each other to be the best.' Dave eyed his red son carefully. 'But he's still right. And I have a duty to look out for them, even though they are not even aware of it.'

"Anyway," Dave continued. "The concert in Richmond is developing some complications-"

"What kind of complications?" Jeanette asked curiously.

"The instrumentalists aren't going to be coming to any more concerts. 'Conflict of interests', is what they said."

"They're going back to their 'Base of Operations' back East," Mr. Seville made the classic air quotes around the term with his fingers while speaking. "So we either have to hire new ones for the concert-"

" _Concerts_." Alvin reminded.

"We don't know about that, Alvin. Anyway, so we either have to find new ones, or we're going back home too." 'At least they're the smart ones. We're practically stepping on some toes all the way here in the west. We should take up their example.'

Unbeknownst to him, his sons were presently wondering if the situation with the hired instrumentalists was tied in with what they saw in their father's planner. There was so much that they didn't know.

"Hmm. We haven't practiced in a while, but we could just play the instruments, just like we used to. Right?"

Dave cursed mentally. Why did Alvin have to find solutions to problems that didn't need 'fixing' at a time like this? He supposed that it couldn't be helped. "Sounds good. But that means flying out to Virginia as soon as possible to practice to get you all up to speed. I'm sure that your oh-so-wonderful playing talent got rusty."

"As soon as possible? Why the urgency? We've got time; we could even…sight-see a little?" Eleanor suggested.

"Haven't you been listening? We're on a tight schedule, Ellie. Or that's what Dave says." Brittany explained patiently. "Besides, I'm in no mood to go sightsee with all these cameras around."

"But won't cameras be in Virginia too?" Theodore asked.

"Guys, you already went sightseeing when you came here in Philly the first day. Remember? It was just last Friday. The selfsame Friday when Alvin decided to go do that…parkour thing he keeps going on about and nearly broke a leg going over a wall." Dave argued.

"It was all under control!" Alvin protested. "I knew what I was doing! Besides, I **didn't** break a leg, now did I?"

"That doesn't stop me from worrying. I'm going to go call the airport, and see if they have any tickets to buy for the next flight."

"Well. That's that." Simon remarked as Dave got up and left to go find his cell phone. "I think we're going to be fine; after all, playing an instrument is like riding a bike. You never really forget. But what am I going to play?"

Brittany looked up to her forehead. "Well, I hardly see you playing piano. It was like playing strictly guitars with Alvin."

"Um… lady." Alvin raised an eyebrow. "It depends on the genre. Besides, if worst come to worst, we'll make a compromise and he can play a key-tar or something. Besides, if it's R and B, piano. Maybe the key-tar for pop music. Any forms of rock or alternative versions of it, it's a guitar."

Brittany folded her arms, now slightly cross. "Just let him play what he wants to play."

"N-no. He's right." Simon answered. "It does depend on the genre to a major extent. Now what songs are going to play? Anyone with any suggestions? Could you get a sheet of paper Theodore? Please?"

The youngest Seville obliged to the request and before Simon could ask the question again, he was nearly set upon by the others.

"'Roar!'" Eleanor squealed.

"Katy Perry?" Simon asked, unsure.

"Did you just say that as if it were a question?"

The blue chipmunk coughed. "Um. We'll vote on it later. Anything else?"

"'My Kind'. Hilary Duff."

Simon quickly wrote down Jeanette's suggestion. "Keep 'em coming, guys."

"Hmm. What about 'FourFive Seconds'?" Theodore asked.

"Considered. Next."

"Hmm. What about 'Hold On' by All That Remains?"

"Scream Singing, Alvin?" Eleanor asked. "Pass."

"Huge pass." Jeanette agreed.

"Uhh, it's minimal. Besides, someone can just sing in a hushed voice, not screaming our throats into oblivion." Alvin protested. Seeing that no one was going to budge, he relented. "Fine. Something by Thousand Foot Krutch, then."

"Thousand…what?"

"Oh, for Pete's sake! Look it up, guys! They're really good. They've got a good sound, and they don't substitute singing for metal. Like 'War of Change', or 'Be Somebody.'"

"We're not trying to send a message, or anything."

"Does a song have to send a message?"

Silence answered him.

"Alright. My final suggestion is 'Iridescent'. Linkin Park. You can't go wrong with those guys."

There were nods all around. However, Alvin noticed that Brittany had been quiet for the duration of the suggestions. "Hey, Brit. Don't you have a song to suggest?"

She stared for a bit, as if just coming back to reality. "Oh! Yeah. I do. I wrote one some time back, and I think I'm ready for it to be heard."

Alvin had a thousand-yard gaze for a moment before his eyes widened. "You mean the one that-"

"Yeah Alvin." She had something of a bitter-sweet smile on her face. It was the kind that indicated that she was happy that she was going to do something good, but afraid that it would fall apart or backfire. All of the others had seen it before and could only wonder what was going on between the eldest of both groups.

"So you wrote it, huh? We're going to have to practice a lot if it's going to be performed in Richmond." Simon remarked while pushing his glasses farther up his nose. "Let's hear it."

 **And that's that. Couldn't find a way to finish the chapter without spoiling the song so I just stopped it there.**

 **Also, for the covers that they do, quite a few times I'll claim that they wrote the song, when in reality, it was done by actual artistes. It's been done already in Fanfiction, but bear with me. If I can't find a song that suits a moment perfectly, then I'll use a poem and turn it into a song as mentioned before. Like 'Straight Answers' that Ravin' Raven sang. That's a poem I took from the anthology I posted.**

 **I also hope I didn't overstep the T rating boundary by hinted drug use that RR was carrying on with. I don't approve of it but I have never found an artiste who never partook of it, unfortunately. If I overstepped the rating, let me know. I tried to be as delicate as possible.**

 **Next chapter will find our spectacular sextet in Richmond where we- whoa, whoa, no spoilers.**

 **Valete Omnes,**

 **MRAY 4TW.**


	5. Chapter 5

**AATC: Territory**

 **As stated last time, useless details are culled. Last chapter came to 7k, and this one came to 8k, before the cut.**

 **Not to say that that I want to keep this story as close to 50k as possible, it's just that 'useless filler is a reading killer' and all that jazz. The story might very well come up to be 100k, and judging by my 'Great Big Book of Plots' I have next to me, I have enough of a plot to go much higher than that quota. Also, it's a shortcoming of mine to never be able to stay within a word count. It really screws me over in the past like in essay writing for exams. Ugh.**

 **By the by, for all future references, the beginning letter(s) for each line indicate who sings that line. I hope FFNET shows this symbol in stories. This…~**

 **Indicates emphasis for a note, like drawing it out, or something extravagant. Stuff like that, you know? If I ever use others, I'll tell you what they mean.**

 **5.**

"And that's why I think we need someone using the keyboard with a pre-synthesizer for different mixes. Not all instruments can get all the beats necessary for some of those songs."

"Si, we've always used our own instruments to get the right tune! What's so hard to understand about that?! We've gotta keep doing that!"

"You've always been staring out at the audience and gallivanting at the front of the stage," Simon replied in the driest tone he could muster. "That you've never chanced a glance behind you at the rest of us and the instrumentalists who were using a pre-synthesized mix."

Alvin frowned. 'Sarcasm, huh?' "I've always cared about you guys. Maybe it's all of you who need to use the stage more, huh?!"

"Not everyone's as big as you, Alvin. Maybe that's why they wanted the signatures on your sweater, instead of another piece of clothing from someone else."

Instead of trying to fight it, the red chipmunk decided to use it. "It's 'cause I'm larger than life!"

"With an egotistical issue to match."

"Argh!"

"Simon, Alvin, that's enough! Just because we're not in the air anymore means that you can cut loose." Dave yelled as he stared through the windshield in effort to remain focused on the road. The minivan they were all in was in fairly good condition; minus the fact that the shocks were all shot to hell. It was severely dampening everyone's mood, and it certainly wasn't making his any better.

"Why don't we just practice a song right now, huh?" Jeanette suggested. "Take our minds of thi-"

*Bump*Rattle*

"AGH!" Brittany yelled. "Are we there yet?!"

Alvin immediately raised his hand to his ear to cover it. "Dang! Scream it right into my ear a little louder next time, huh?"

"Sor-ry!" The chipette drawled out in response. "But-"

"This rental sucks." Eleanor put in. "Right Theodore?"

"He's got too much stuff on his glutes for him to not notice the horrible shocks." Alvin spoke up.

"Is that a fat joke, Alvin?!" The girl fumed.

"Nope!" Alvin raised his hands in an effort to placate the girl, knowing full well that he was within her arm's reach. "It's, uh, it's uh, ah… he's lucky! That's all. I wish I had that, y-y'know?" He stammered.

"Good. But come to think of it, I haven't heard anything from Theo." The green chipette looked around to her counterpart, only to discover that he was asleep in the seat that rested over the area of a back wheel. The girl sighed with a small sigh. "Only Theodore."

"Maybe we should try a song after all, huh guys?" Jeanette suggested again. "Does anyone have one that can pass the time and take our minds of things?"

"Good idea, Jeanette." Dave agreed. "Something to practice, like you said earlier. That's why we rushed out here, after all." 'And the faster we do this tour and get back home, the better.'

"I've got the perfect one. We all sing a part, so we'll all be occupied. Someone wake Theodore." Simon stated.

"Hey Theodore, it's snack-time." Alvin said simply.

The chipmunk snapped awake. "Where's my snack?"

Eleanor slapped a laughing Alvin upside the head. "That's not funny, Alvin!"

"Ow!" The red squealed. "Simon, get on with it before the girl murders me!"

"I've half a mind to. If only Theodore approved of it, you would have been dead a long time ago."

"Hush up that kind of talk, Eleanor." Dave warned. "No one needs the violence, even if it's playful."

Simon sighed deeply. Without a word, he started snapping his digits while whistling lowly. The driving Dave recognized it, and started whistling it as well, knowing that Simon would have to sing. He considered himself a good whistler; able to inhale and exhale through a pout to continually whistle. Exhale for higher notes, and inhale for the lower ones.

Alvin groaned as he heard the tune. "Really guys? 'Paradise' by Coldplay?"

"Quit talking and sing, Alvin." Brittany chastised. "I like this song, for your information."

The chipmunk did as he was told with a sigh of relent, and started to join the others in snapping, as well as the introductory tones.

All: Ooooh…~ (2x)

E: When she was just a gi~rl,

She expected the wo~rld.

J: But it flew away from her rea~ch,

So she ran away in her slee~p

A: And dreamed of

(-)

All: Para, para, paradise,

Para, para, paradise,

Papa, para, paradise

A: Every time she closed her eyes.

(-)

All: Ooooh…(2x)

T: When she was just a gi~rl,

She expected the wo~rld.

S: But it flew away from her rea~ch,

The bullets catch in her tee~th.

A: Life goes on, it gets so heavy,

The wheel breaks the butterfly.

B: Every tear, a waterfall,

In the night, the stormy night,

She closed her eyes.

In the night, the stormy night,

Away she flied.

A: And dreamed of

(-)

All: Para, para, paradise,

Para, para, paradise,

Papa, para, paradise,

Whoa-oh-oh oh-ooh oh-oh-oh.

She dreamed of

Para, para, paradise,

Para, para, paradise,

Papa, para, paradise,

Whoa-oh-oh oh-ooh oh-oh-oh.

*They all hummed and snapped enthusiastically; all were smiling now.*

A: La,…la,…la~

(-)

AST: And so lying underneath

These stormy skies.

BJE: She'd say, "Oh, ohohohoh,

I know the sun must set to rise~

A: This could be

(-)

All: Para, para, paradise,

Para, para, paradise,

Papa, para, paradise,

Oh oh oh oh oh oh-oh-oh

A: This could be

All: Para, para, paradise,

Para, para, paradise,

Papa, para, paradise,

Oh oh oh oh oh oh-oh-oh-oh

A: This could be

All: Para, para, paradise,

Para, para, paradise,

Papa, para, paradise,

Oh oh oh oh oh oh-oh-oh-oh

Ooooh…

(-)

As the song ended, all felt significantly better. "Wow, that felt good, huh?" Dave piped up. "It was perfect."

"And it was a-capella, not to mention." Jeanette added. "Good pick, Simon." She remarked with a smile.

The boy chipmunk blushed a bit. "Err, right! I try."

Alvin rolled his eyes. 'Uh huh. I'm sure that he's aiming for a relationship with Jean or something.' "Yeah, good pick Si."

"Thanks Alvin."

"Did you think I sung well, Alvin?" Brittany asked. She knew she did, but it would be good to hear him admit that to her. In a superiority-complex kind-of way, of course.

'You knew this was coming, Alvin!' The red capped Seville thought in a panic. 'How to say yes, without giving her any leverage over you! What would Simon say? Say something, quick?' "We all sung well. If anything, I would've asked you what you thought of _mine_?"

"You're a good soloist, with excellent timing in the quick-beat parts." She said simply, as if she had rehearsed it. "But you didn't answer my question."

'Crap!'

"Gh, uh…" He stumbled. "You're a beautiful singer."

All the others turned around to the two of them, including Dave. Mentally, the man slapped himself recalling Ms. Miller's demise and returned his attention to it. But that didn't mean he wasn't listening along with the others.

Brittany blushed deeply. "Wh-what?"

"…"

"…"

"Hmm." Simon wondered aloud. "I can't tell if he's complimenting her vocalism, or her physical appearance. Alvin, we would all like some clarity."

'Holy crap, I've really stepped into it this time!' The chipmunk was nearly in hysterics on the inside, but on the outside, he was as cool and composed as ever as his thoughts ran away with him at top speed. 'Hmm. Vocalism must vocals, like singing. And appearance must be how she looks. And clarity must mean…to be clear? Right? So they all want to know what I meant if I think she pretty or sings good!' "I mean that she's a really good singer."

All turned away now, but Brittany's blush only slightly lessened. "Oh well, he never gives out compliments out easily anyway, don't you fantastic Mr. Seville?" She said suggestively. She could have sworn that he meant her attractiveness.

"Um…"

"That's what I thought."

"Whew! Dodged a bullet there." The chipmunk muttered in a volume even less than a whisper. Whether what side of fortuity it may be, Brittany who sat beside him heard his words with her sharp hearing, and smiled to herself. But she said nothing more as she looked out to her right through the window, observing the area that was Richmond, Virginia.

Alvin stewed in his thoughts, still unbelieving that he made a slip-up like that. It was hard to imagine, and hard to comprehend. Even if he were to compliment her singing, he wouldn't have gone so far as to lavish such a word as 'beautiful'. Maybe a word like 'good', or 'great'. If he were to go really far, he would say 'fantastic'. But 'beautiful'?! What happened to the times when they made fun of each other, even if it were because they were bored? It should have been even more so because they were teenagers. Even Dave said so, and the man was wondering out loud if Premium Fire insurance coverage for his home was over the top since Alvin had 'matured.' What the heck?!

'I must be slowing down too much.' He reasoned. 'But still, why that description? Even if I were talking about how pretty she was, I wouldn't…' "Oh no." He realized out loud. "Oh, boy."

"What is it? Simon asked him.

"I'm…going to need to…" Alvin quickly thought of a lie to excuse himself. "Water a tree."

"Well, do it in the restroom." Dave chastised. "We're here." He pulled into the parking lot into a convenient spot near the exit; no doubt someone had just left it. "We'll get logged up in the Hotel here, and then you can…err, wash a window."

"We know what you males mean when you say that, you know." Jeanette said in a scolding tone. "We're not little kids."

"Alvin started it. He's the little kid." Eleanor said smugly.

"Says the youngest here," Alvin growled out.

The red chipmunk yanked the sliding door open; taking care to not step or tread on everyone's toes, he just jumped out and took off to be alone. The driver sighed as he watched him. "Simon…can you run after him and tell him that he's going the wrong way? The Hotel's over here, not over there where he's headed."

 **=X=X=**

After Dave had their information logged in the registry with the receptionist at the front, they all unpacked in their rooms and enjoyed their brief respite from the horrible jolting from their previous transport, and had a 'snack', as Theodore insisted. Scarcely a minute after, Dave was calling about the shipping he had enlisted for an agency to bring over their instruments. He had called them up from while they were still in Philadelphia, and judging from how he was reacting to their news, he was impatient with them.

"Two days? The concert's in five!"

"…*…" The voice on the phone sounded unclear to the group listening on.

"They need all the time they can get. The sooner the instruments get here, the better." The man raised his voice a little.

"I think Dave's reacting too much to this." Jeanette whispered to Simon. "Couldn't you guys just buy some to use out here in the East? Or even rent some?"

"Heck no!" Alvin whispered in mock-anger. "I'm with Dave on this; I want my red and white Fender!"

"'Fender', what?" Brittany questioned.

"Brittany, the full name for the guitar is for it to be a 'Fender Stratocaster'." Jeanette volunteered.

"It's his own electric guitar. He's had it custom made for himself. And it's pretty much the only thing that's guaranteed for him not to break." Simon added smugly.

"Are you saying that I'm damage-prone to instruments unless it's my own, Si?"

Simon faked a gasp. "He knows a new word!"

"Why I oughta-"

"Calm down, guys. Besides, its just one electric guitar, we see them all the time, right?"

Alvin made a cliché 'wrong-answer' buzzer sound. "Wrong, Brittany. I have my baby tuned for any and all songs we could ever hope to sing, and I know it like the back of my head. It's like…it's like…"

"Breaking in a new pair of shoes?" The chipette suggested.

"Yeah! Like that!"

"But even with Alvin's obsession over his guitar, what about the other instruments? Do all of you have the same problem like Alvin?"

"No, Ellie. It's not a problem." Theodore protested. "We just had them for so long and…and…"

"It would feel like a betrayal to a friend." Simon butted in to help his younger brother. "So we play ours, and not 'backstab'…" He made air quotes heavily at this, to make it easier to understand for people who still misinterpreted his wit. "…Them by playing another one. That and the fact that the all the mixes that Dave and I made are in a file inside my keyboard player."

"Gee. And I would've thought that people would kill to have your instruments, or something." The auburn haired chipette reasoned. "Why leave them behind in the first place?"

"We never brought them because we expected the musicians to follow us the whole way. But why would they just leave us in the lurch?"

"…"

"To make us fend for ourselves." Simon clarified with a groan. If he wanted to keep his mental health intact, he'd need to speak in simpler terms in order to not repeat what he meant every time he spoke.

They spent a minute like this. It would have been completely silent, if Dave wasn't arguing on the phone in the background.

"I wonder if they were afraid." Theodore asked timidly.

"Tch. Afraid of what, Theo?" Eleanor scoffed. "Stage fright is the closest we've ever gotten to something scaring us."

At the back of his mind and privy to his own thoughts, Theodore recalled the times that stage-fright nearly gave him a panic attack that made him freeze-up in crucial moments, like certain solos. But he never voiced it. He feared any ridicule from his best friend, who he had never seen to fall prey to something foolish or be scared of anything. He wished he had a nature like that.

"…*…"

"Please do so, that's all I can ask." Dave hung up the phone and looked over to the sextet. "Thirty-six hours."

"That's actually a good time." Simon answered. "Better than two or three days."

"Oh please!" Alvin scoffed. "All we need is a single day to practice and we're fine."

"We still have to practice Brittany's song, Alvin." Jeanette said discretely to the red chipmunk. "You know this must mean a lot to her."

"We don't need our instruments for that song, Jeanette."

"You don't?" The chipette asked back, befuddled. "Without instruments?"

"No, no. All we need, is an acoustic."

"An acoustic is fine, but I still want someone to play the drums for the song, Alvin." Brittany had overheard, and frowned.

"Fine. It's your song. But what the heck are we going to do while we're waiting for the instruments to get here?"  
All looked around at each other…

"Sightseeing."

"Shopping."

"Walk."

"Sleep."

"Read."

"Parkour."

…And spoke at the same time.

"Oh boy." Dave face palmed. "Everyone go do that. Just make sure that all of you are in here by five-thirty p.m. It's three p.m. right now."

"Will do, Dave!" A chipmunk yelled in reply.

"Alvin."

"Yes Dave?"

"Don't hurt yourself. Please? For the love of-"

"Fine, fine. I won't hurt myself. I'm not soft, Dave. I'm not a little kid."

"You're four feet tall, and you're my kid." The man said in all seriousness. "So yes. You are."

Without further ado, they were all off to do what they wanted, save for Eleanor who just took a nap in her chair.

 **=X=X=**

Alvin finished his own stretches and was about to run off when Brittany hailed for him to wait; she wanted to catch up.

"Hold on!"

He glanced back and muttered to himself. 'Why wait? Jeez, she's not running, not to mention I need to clear my head. Of her that is.'

"C'mon! I need to pick out something new for the concert. I need your help for opinions."

Hell no!

She was about ten feet away when she said that. Now, it might as well have been a mile, as he decided to run to save himself the trouble. What the heck was she thinking, asking a guy when she had sisters she could rely on for things like that?!

He took off, ignoring her pleas to wait. As the wind rushed past his ears and muffled the sound, he resigned himself to fully commit to what he was doing. The last time he ran while he was distracted, he met up in a small accident. No need to repeat that.

The parking lot for the hotel had several small barricades to house vehicles inside of which that helped to nullify the threat of overcrowding the lot or creating confusion. Brittany only saw her counterpart jump up to the top of one of them in a single bound, and front-flipped off the other side. Soon, he was out of sight.

"Damn it, Alvin!" She muttered angrily. She was hoping that he would have accompanied her shopping after all. She still wanted to make sure that she wasn't hearing things when he had whispered about his narrow escape. Maybe a reaction to her in an outfit would have cemented the suspicion. 'Okay, Brittany. Next time, make sure you have a grip on him so he _can't_ run off. Although he _did_ look impressive doing that. A bit of a show-off, though...'

She momentarily hesitated as she continued down to what she presumed was the central area for commercial businesses.

"Do I like Alvin like that? Why would I admire what he did? Other people can do that, right?" She muttered to herself uneasily. The idea did patch a lot of holes in their speculated relationship, but to her 'liking' Alvin was still a far-fetched one. While she didn't find it impossible, she only found it improbable.

"If it's not Alvin, then who?" She asked to no one but to her own conscience. In her imagination, she could see with her mind's-eye, her brain was the internet, and her question was in a search box. After a full two minutes, her brain flashed the message 'No results found.'

'Huh. I must want to be single. What the heck's the matter with me? Isn't there a guy that I like?'

Apparently not.

After asking around, she found the mall. Like an inbred skill or talent, she found a clothing retailer instantly once there, and she was soon browsing the clothing articles. She wasn't looking for anything flashy; only unique to the nature of the song that she wrote.

The one that would be an immense burden until she sung it.

 **=X=X=**

Jeanette found her digital camera that had the best resolution and strapped it around her neck. Simon patiently waited for her at the door and they soon exited.

"I thought you said that you're going to read?" The chipette asked. Before he could answer, she looked away to her camera, and fiddled with it.

"Oh no. I said I was going to take a walk." He was quick to respond. In truth, he only said 'walking' after she said sightseeing. He had hoped that he could spend a little more time with her. But why did she look away from him?

"So who said that they were going to read?"

"It was Theodore. By all means, I think it was a cookbook he took out of his bag." Simon replied in a dry tone. He was treated to the sound of her giggling. It was a closet secret of his, but the sound of it was a drug to him; he tried his best to only inveigle it only once or twice a day. He feared that if he did it more than that, it wouldn't be all that special anymore.

"Really?!"

"Really." He assured. "So, you're going to take pictures, I assume? Statues? Building designs? Trivial landmarks?"

"Birds." She interjected.

He sputtered. "Birds?! That's so…" He glanced to his right to see her with a studying look. "Err…wonderful."

They continued walking to where they presumed a park would be. After a long silence, Simon grew more and more nervous, and felt more and even more so an obligation to fill the quiet. "W-wonderful, is it n-not?"

"Pray tell why your vocabulary regressed to that of Alvin's." She commented coolly.

"Excuse me?"

"You said 'wonderful.' I'm sure you could have found a far more intricate or increasingly exotic word with which to term it. It's because it's birds, isn't it?"

"I find nothing wrong with birds." He defended.

"That may be true. It's just that you don't find them as worthwhile as concrete and steel."

"It's history! All well defined and long-lasting history that stood for generations and will continue to do so."

"I simply don't find them attractive, to be honest."

"It's not about how their appearance dictates whether or not…well, actually, yes. I was thinking about them in way of design and architectural value." He admitted. "But many birds have come and gone. Why invest time in that?"

She took the time to ask for directions to the park before she continued. "I find their plumage far more interesting to take pictures of, instead of man-made structures. I know not whether if they were the product of a Divine being like God, or a product of random selection, but it's a very simple matter, pertaining to choice. Take a picture of something in nature, one of beauty, I may add…"

Now it was his turn to frown. "Or…?"

"Or take a picture of something that's replicable."

"I find that hard to believe." He said with a chuckle. "They're all products of imagination."

"Based on something." Jeanette added hastily.

"Many times, yes." He amended. "But the plumages of birds are superfluous. Not many of them could apply to-"

"Mating, warning predators, camouflage, fitting to the seasons, and that's just the colors." She said evenly. "And don't even get me started on the physical designs for the feathers themselves."

"Fair point." He relented with a sigh. "But I urge you to reconsider."

"…"

"Please?"

"Tell you what. Take a picture of a statue, then a picture of a bird. A good one." She advised. She unslung her camera and prepped it for the action she requested. Unsure of what point she was trying to make, he obliged regardless.

Fifteen minutes later, he dry heaved as he ran back to where she sat on a park bench and waited for his return. She took the camera from him politely and waited for him to catch his breath.

"I had to…(gasp)…run after the darned…(gasp)…bird to get a good shot of it!"

"I thought as much." She said knowingly.

After a minute, she held up the camera for them both to see, and she opened up the first image on the digital screen at the back. "See the statue? The statue of that man?"

"Yes?"

"What's so special about it?"

"Well, the artist was sure to capture the regality of the man's profile, it is a remarkable likeness…and…" The blue chipmunk trailed off as he tried to think of more properties of the statue. "It's…sturdy…?"

Jeanette took the camera from him. Taking a moment to skip to the next picture, she noted the bird's 'under bib' and appreciated the effort Simon had made to get the difficult shot; one without any blurred motion whatsoever, despite the bird being in midflight. "Uh huh. That's it?"

Simon had the decency to look a bit ashamed. "Perhaps if I had gone to Monument Avenue, I could've gotten a better…" One look at her face made him stop. "Err, never mind."

"Alright. Now describe the bird, please."

He took the camera back from her careful grasp and studied it for a moment. "Well, judging from this picture, I would say that it's recently changed feathers, no doubt in preparation for the fall season. The downy has changed. It no longer needed the extravagant colors with which it would have wooed a mate. It has a small piece of cloth in it's mouth, so it may be using that to make a nest more comfortable, at least until it's ready to migrate further south."

He went on for another couple of minutes before his mind caught up to what he was actually saying. "And…I…I s-see w-what you're saying, Jean."

"I'm glad."

"Even so," He returned the camera. "I still think I prefer to be a person of history and facts, than a poet."

"Can't you be a poetic Historian?" She elbowed him slightly in the ribs before she got up. "You still need to go on your walk, Mr. Factual."

"Can't you be a poet on History?" He replied in jest. "You still need to go sightseeing. Although I wonder why the birds instead of the actual sights that are only local to the state."

And so they continued in their conversation as they walked.

 **=X=X=**

He was sprinting to a nine foot wall.

From experience, he knew that he couldn't clear that easily. He was only four feet tall. Unless he had fantastic abilities, he might as well stop. But number one rule of free running; lose your momentum, and you'll stop completely, whether you liked it or not.

He slowed a bit in preparation. Now moving a just a bit faster than a jog, he approached the wall, and leapt up the face of it using his left foot, and brought his right foot for drive; that was his first step. Out of habit, he reached sky high to grab the top of the wall with his right hand, but already knew it was out of reach. In a lesser-practiced move, he brought up his left knee up the face of it as well, before driving upwards with it, and practically used both arms to pull at the slightly coarse wall as if like a cat.

Of course, that was very little help, but it helped with bringing up his momentum a bit up the wall, and that was what counted.

He finally grabbed the top of the wall as his feet slipped out from behind him. He was growing tired from his run, and knew that he had to conclude today with this, or he might overstrain himself, or worse, miss an important step and hurt himself badly.

Quickly grabbing on with his left hand, he brought up his left foot, and pulled himself up while pushing up with his toes; then right foot. Soon, he was bracing himself up on top of the wall, and he quickly brought his right foot between his arms to stand on it. Then it was a simple matter of leaping forward as far as possible, before-

"Alvin!"

He was just in the act of pushing off with his toes when he heard the yell, and in the excitement of the moment, he fretted for the fact that he wasn't going far enough. In his panic he fought with himself to focus on what he was doing, and as he landed jarringly on his toes in a ninety-degree angled crouch. He pushed off while leaning forward; going with the right shoulder to the left side in a less than perfect PK roll and in the process, he hurt his back more than a little. As he emerged from it, his head whipped around to the direction of the voice.

"Who the he- Brittany?!"

"That was-"

"You threw me off, Brittany!" He yelled. "I could've died from a broken neck if I didn't land properly!"

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean-" She tried to speak but was interrupted.

"Sorry doesn't cut it, Brit! Were you just going to say 'I'm sorry' at my funeral!" He shouted at the top of his lungs. Passersby who traversed the area looked on at the development. But he didn't care. Instead, he had all of his attention on the chipette who stood about four feet away from him. In a bit of his angered haze, he noticed that she must've just completed her shopping, for she held a double-handled bag that indicated that she did.

He also noticed that her apologetic countenance turned to one of anger to match his.

"Damn it, Alvin! Why the hell should I say I'm sorry, huh? If it weren't for me, you would have-"

"Not nearly break my own back?!" He shot back in interruption.

"Agh!" She slapped her own forehead in a face-palm of frustration. In his slight startling moment, she pushed her way past him, obviously upset. Why, he had no idea. Besides, wasn't he the one who hurt himself?

He remained there and watched her leave, her form getting smaller with distance. When he felt a tap on his shoulder, he growled as he turned around sharply.

"What is it?" He flinched as he felt his back. 'Luckily, not too much damage this time. I'll be better by tomorrow.'

As he turned he looked up to gaze into the face of an adult male, who had all the appearance of a father. "You seem upset, son. Seen the whole thing."

"Yeah? And what's it to you, huh?" He said albeit rudely. "My back hurts a bit, and she's the one who gets angry with me. Geez."

"Parkour? Did that me'self when I was your age. Been at it since I was ten."

"I'm not ten! I'm fourteen!" Alvin corrected loudly.

"Height challenged, then?"

"Chipmunk."

The man nodded. "That's not the point. As I said, I saw the whole thing."

"And? That means you know that I was right. If you did parkour, you know that there are no mid-ways to doing something like that. You either go as far out as possible and roll, or you do a safety-tap!"

"Safety tap? Is what they call landing straight down and crouching on the toes?" The man queried.

"Yeah!"

The man sighed as he knelt down to face the boy on a much more similar height for a paternal intimacy. "You're right about that. But did you look before you leap?"

"I just go for it; if you stop to look and think, you'll hesitate and make mistakes."

The man gave up and stood again. "I couldn't help but notice that your back must be hurting a bit. You'll be fine. But take a look behind you, and picture if you did jump as far as you could."

Alvin exhaled slowly in resignation and turned. As he saw what the man was hinting at, his eyes widened. "A-a-a-…"

"Fire hydrant." The man finished. "No matter how you try to cut it, you would've broken your back on it if you rolled to it, or seriously hurt yourself getting into a roll when you would have landed an inch from it. You should go apologize to her, son, and _then_ thank her."

 **['Paradise' belongs to 'Coldplay']**

 **That's chapter five. Why yes, this did seem like filler. In actuality, this was to give some insight into everyone's personality and capabilities, and then next time…so and so-so happens. Luckily for you, my schedule has allotted two chapters for y'all tonight. If you don't see it, check back before midnight. That's because I like to read my own fic updates on Saturday nights. Aren't I unique? Aren't I?**

 **(Silence, as readers have already skipped to next chapter)**

 **Wait! Come back! At least leave a review, people! Damn it!**

 **Valete omnes,**

 **MRAY 4TW.**


	6. Chapter 6

**AATC: Territory.**

 **Congratulations! You're one of the few people to win a cherry-red Ferrari! All you have to do, is leave a review!**

 **What? No? Oh well, I tried. But won't you do it anyway, please?**

 **(I got a neighbor who reads my stories from time to time. He told me that in order to get reviews, the writer had to make only bad stuff happen to the protagonists, and kill at least one of them by the end of the fic. He also told me that no reviews says that you're writing the story with too little conflict, or the readers can't find anything to complain about. I suppose he's right. Time to give Dave a deadly aneurysm. That left-field enough?)**

 **6.**

"C'mon Brittany, I just wanna say sorry!"

He heard muffled shouting coming from the other side of the door. He could barely determine what was said, but he could catch the gist of it. Apparently.

"I'm sorry! Alright?! I'm sorry, and thank you for trying to warn me!"

He could feel his throat going from yelling for so long, and fretted for it's state. He needed it to be in top health in time for the concert. He knocked on the door one last time and yelled again. "THANKS!"

"Hey, you!" Another voice shouted from another room. "SHUT UP! People are trying to sleep, you know!"

Alvin inhaled deeply, trying to mend his frayed nerves. That yeller was right. It was now eleven p.m. at night, and if he didn't quit what he was doing, he could be thrown out of the hotel for disturbing the other guests. At least Dave was looking the other way. This time, that is. It seemed as if he might've gone through something like this in his own past, and Alvin had to bribe him with angelic behavior for the rest of the tour.

He leaned against the chipettes' door with the lateral side of his arm and spoke quietly against it, hoping that the one he spoke to was listening. "I'm sorry, ok? I didn't realize, and some guy told me what really happened and all I can say, is thank you. I could've killed myself doing what I nearly did, and you were helping me."

Silence reigned in the hall in all of it's quiet majesty. He was about to turn and leave when the door opened. At the sound of the knob turning, his attention snapped back to it. before the door could fully open, he heard the tell-tale sign of a privacy lock sliding out of it's place on the door to permit full access to the passageway. When it opened, he saw what looked like Brittany in a pink nightgown and her arms crossed.

"So. You're sorry, huh?"

His mind quickly caught up from his observations. "Yeah! I am." He exclaimed eagerly. "I really mean it. If you don't accept the apology for yelling at you, I'm sorry anyway for not even giving you a chance to explain yourself, and even more so, thanks. I could have met up in another accident, only this time, it would've put me out of it permanently."

"Is that so, huh?" She said crossly. At first, he feared that he had gone overboard this time around, but the fear turned into confusion when she smiled at him. "I forgive you, Alvin."

"Oh. Huh?!"

"I. Forgive. You."

"Gee! Thanks!"

"Calm down." She spoke up. "I'm only doing this because Jeanette's bugging me about how you're disturbing her sleep, and Eleanor was threatening to knock you out to shut you up."

"Wow! You really do care." He said sarcastically.

"Ha, ha." She replied in a dull monotone. "Don't let it happen again."

"Sure, sure. I promise."

"I mean it. If you ever yell at me like that again, and even come close to publicly shaming me, I'm going to-" She went on to vividly describe what she would do to him for another minute, and the whole while, his eyes got wider and wider in fear and stupefied manner. "…Got that?!"

"Uh huh, uh huh!" He shook his head vigorously, 'till he nearly snapped his own neck.

"Good. Now go to bed."

 **And that was two days** ago. Alvin had a bit of difficulty sleeping that night, but now, it was close to midday in an auditorium of an empty school in which they had practice. Dave had gotten to use after…giving away some tickets to the upcoming concert to the school's administration, and now they had the whole area to themselves to practice in. Perfect.

"Why the heck do we have to be in school?" The red chipmunk griped. "I came on this tour to avoid it, and now I'm in one?!"

"Oh, quit complaining!" Eleanor growled. "Now what's next?"

"Let's run through 'Iridescent' one more time, then Brittany's song." Dave suggested. "It's the last cover we have to practice, and you've all done fantastic with your instruments; multitasking, like you used to. It's like-"

"Riding a bicycle?" Simon suggested.

"Yes!"

"Let me pull up the mix on my keyboard." Simon continued. "This song has a couple of beats that require more than just one guitar."

Alvin conceded this once. He understood from their adoptive father that bands typically had three guitarists, one drummer and a vocalist. Although he was jockeying for a double role like his brothers, they would still be short a guitar or two, and Simon's keyboard came with a strap so he could wear it like a key-tar. They would, and still could-

"Rock and Roll!" He cheered, as he strummed off a long lasting, pitched note.

Brittany groaned in disappointment. Even when it was just then, he still just…ugh. "Just start, already!"

"Fine, fine. Brit?"

"Yeah?"

"If you wanna, you can solo the second chorus …"

"Really?!" She asked excitedly.

"Yeah."

"Hold up. Can he do that?" Eleanor asked Dave.

"Well…yeah. He can. It was his to sing, and he's giving to her." The man reasoned. "Even though I don't know why." 'Well, I do. But let 'em think I don't.' "But start, anyway." He gazed at the back to see his youngest son with his head down and his jaws working. "Theodore? Quit eating the cheese puffs and start."

"Sorry!" The green chipmunk quickly put down his bag and wiped his hands on his pants before brushing the crumbs off of it. Now satisfied, he started beating the tune, and all the instrumentals joined in; making for a slow and dramatic-starter.

AST: You were standing in the wake of devastation.

You were waiting on the edge of the unknown.

With the cataclysm raining down,

Insides crying, "Save me now".

You were there and possibly alone.

BJE: Do you feel co~ld and lost in desperation?

You build up ho~pe, but failure's all you've known.

Remember all~ the sadness and frustration,

And let it go~

Let it go.

(-)

AST: And in a burst of light that blinded every angel.

As if the sky had blown the heavens into stars.

You felt the gravity of tempered grace,

Falling into empty space,

No one there to catch you in their arms.

B: Do you feel co~ld and lost in desperation?

You build up ho~pe, but failure's all you've known.

Remember all~ the sadness and frustration,

And let it go~

Let it go.

BJE: Let it go~ (2)

AST: Let it go~

ALL: Let it go!~

Do you feel co~ld and lost in desperation?

You build up ho~pe, but failure's all you've known.

Remember all~ the sadness and frustration,

And let it go~

Let it go.~

(-)

Upon the song's completion, as all others but she cheered, Brittany was silent. She suddenly realized what the red chipmunk had done. And…she appreciated it.

"Alvin?"

The chipmunk turned and faced her. "Yeah?"

"Thanks."

He nodded and went back to chatting/arguing with Simon. She watched him and smiled a bit. Truly, when he was picking out songs, he was thinking of her. Funny how the first day in Richmond, she lost sight of that.

Must've been nerves.

"Alright everyone!" Dave yelled for all to be quiet. "It's time for Brittany to do her song. Alvin, grab that acoustic in the case. Simon, make sure that the keyboard's notes are mellow. Theodore?"

"Mmm?"

"Quit eating, and make sure that the beats are slow and soft, just like the starting for Iridescent you just played. They'll be time for snacking, after we're done practicing."

 **=X=X=**

He stared out from the stage entry at the crowd that mobbed the stadium. "WOW! Everyone who's anyone's here!"

"Of course they are. But the stadium can't hold anymore." Simon lectured his older brother. Theodore, who was in a corner panic-eating was being consoled by his green counterpart, Jeannette was drinking caffeinated energy drink, and Brittany was nervous. Not really nervous per say; she was a chipette that was brimming with confidence.

'Yeah. That sounds good. _Chipette confidence_.'

She was only a bit afraid that her song wouldn't meet the crowd's expectations. She was doing the closing song, and since it was _her_ song, she was soloing the whole thing. Everyone else knew the words, but she couldn't count on anyone in case she messed up; fading out her voice while the others sung louder. Then she'd be a laughing stock, and…

Yep. Turns out that she was nervous after all.

She started to pace, while mouthing the words to herself. It was very easy to sing, and she had no doubts that all of the audience could pick it up by the second chorus. So it shouldn't be difficult for her, right?

'The stadium must be full, judging from how Alvin described it. Come on, Brittany! Pull it together!' She steeled herself, but it soon fell apart like the façade it was. 'Alright, all I gotta do is take my mind off of it. Think of the covers. Yeah. The covers!'

In truth, that did not help. Doing covers made everyone feel lesser of themselves, but it was a feeling that they had gotten used to. It was a feeling of being lesser than those who wrote their own songs. Dave had quite a few of his own written, but they were neglected. In fact, they all believed that if they could be this popular doing covers, they would be world leaders doing their own songs.

'Oh boy, I'm gonna-'

"BRITTANY!"

"Huh?" She snapped back to reality to find Eleanor shaking her by the shoulders. It was strange how much you missed when you zoned out. "What is it?"

"We got introduced!" The green chipette yelled into her face. "Why are you standing around for?! C'mon!"

Brittany stitched up her frayed nerves and ran unto the stage after Eleanor. She noticed that the stage took up the space of the lesser sides of the oval, while everyone else crowded the seating, the red track, and pretty much every standing area on the field. Alvin had **not** exaggerated when he described the turnout.

The huge banner showed the stylized 'C & C' logo they had for the tour. The 'C's were square; each segment had a color, namely red, or blue, or green. The second 'C' had pink, purple, and green. The '&' was in white. Theodore had his drums set up closer to the back in the middle, Simon flanked him at the left, albeit a bit more to the fore with his keyboard, and Alvin stood at the direct front, in the center. All the chipettes stood in their own fashions in the center, but none blocked no one's view of one another should they turn to face each other, or the audience to look at a specified one. All of them wore headset mics to allow hand gestures for song emphasis. Or for allowing the Chipmunks to play their instruments.

Theodore wore a dark green polo shirt, with thin, fingerless gloves to prevent calluses from his drumming, while still un-hindering his task. In a moment of trying something new, he upturned his collar so it furled around the neck. Simon wore a long-sleeved blue shirt, and a 'SS' crest on the pocket of it. He also had one of the same kinds of glove-wear like his younger brother, but it was on his right hand; it was as if it was a brace for the night to come. Alvin decided to wear a red-sweater as usual, and he wore the hood down. He still retained his cap, as ever; it had a large 'A' on the front of it, and it was mirrored on the sweater as well over his heart's location. All of the boys wore jeans and converse sneakers that corresponded to their brand color.

Eleanor wore a light green blouse with a yellow 'E' over the left breast of it, and a knee length yellow skirt. Her blonde hair was tied up in pigtails, giving her a petite child look. She wore yellow crepe-soles, with white socks. Jeanette, as always, wore a purple shirt with a dark blue denim-jacket. Her brown hair was in a bun and she covered her lower torso with a purple, flower-petal patterned skirt with white stripes, and she rounded off the look with her trusty purple frame glasses, and blue colored platforms on her feet. Brittany decided to go for her classical look by wearing a pink skirt that was slightly darker shade than her pink top, along with blue tights. Deciding to risk the ridicule, she wore yellow legwarmers. Going out on a limb, she wore a fairly short yellow scarf that she tied off to the side. She had her auburn hair in a rather simple, but still impressive ponytail.

They looked fantastic for fourteen-year-olds, and the crowd let them know that from the extensive clapping and cheering.

Alvin adjusted his guitar so it could be more comfortable hanging from its strap, and gripping his plectrum, strummed a light pitch and continuous note. "Yeah, Richmond! Y'hear that?!" He spoke loudly in his headset; his voice blaring from the speakers set up all around.

The crowd cheered louder than they already did.

"Did'ya?!"

"YEAH!" (x Multitude)

All on stage felt certain that the response was loud enough to wake people up in neighboring states; had anyone been asleep at a measly eight p.m.

Alvin recalled the plan from Dave that they were singing a crowd enthusiasm song first, then the 'cuter' songs, then the songs that generally held messages. The closer would be Brittany's song, and he couldn't help but feel concerned. The closing song was the one that everyone knew was the best saved for last. If it was loused up, then-

He shook his head. It was time to work for his living, and he loved living for his work.

And then he started leading the notes for 'Paradise.'

 **=X=X=**

The crowd sang along with them for most of the night.

"…And let it go! Let…it…go!"

They trailed off with their instruments, and all felt their highs die down a little. Quite a few times until now in the live concert, Simon had to switch between his guitar and his keyboard, but the final two songs only required the pianism for its mechanics and sound. They would have completed the night with a 'message' song, and Simon had written a poem. He motioned to Alvin that it was now his time, and was grateful when the red Seville took the clue.

"Well, the night's winding down people! Or should I say morning?!"

The crowd laughed in some areas, and moaned in others. Obviously, they were disappointed that things were fast approaching a close at five thirty in the morning. "AWWW!"

"I'm sorry!" Alvin consoled, but spoke the next in a lower and more grave tone. "But in all seriousness, folks, my brother wrote a poem. It's a message, and we all approved of it. I'll let him take it from here." He waved to his brother, who pressed a button that started to play a low volume composition that held a slightly rhythmic beat.

"I'm glad you're listening. I know that you'd much rather hear us sing…" Simon began, before the crowd cheered again, but as he spoke again, they hushed. "It's so serious that someone had to state it. It's called 'The Perfect Crime.'" The crowd was silent, and the blue chipmunk started to recite his poem.

"It was the perfect crime; process was unseen

And unheard, but yet still, a man was killed.

There was no blood, no fingerprints, the place was clean.

The body was cold; fear in citizens already instilled.

There were bruises on the neck, one could tell

That death was slow, the effects of asphyxiation.

By the tears of the family and the knell of the bell,

A funeral was held, unresolved issues had no alleviation.

Frowning heavily, the dead man's enemy stood by the grave.

He spat; here lies the man he wished not to save.

Over the dead's lifetime, his debt to him had climbed sky-high.

Do you not see? Don't listen to this just for the rhymes,

Instead, try to reason carefully, interpret all the lines.

The debtor saw and heard the man being killed, begging for help, watched him die,

And decided to not intervene or be a witness, just because he was owed a dime.

The sole witness remained silent; that in itself is the perfect crime.

The debt was unresolved and unpaid.

Angry at the indebted and himself, he walked away."

As Simon quit speaking, all one could hear was the composition that the Seville had allowed to continue to play. He didn't fear that they didn't like the poem; he himself didn't like it, but it was the ugly truth, and needed to be heard. They were maturing, and they weren't kids anymore. Neither were their audience, and all understood what it was saying perfectly.

"We've all heard of some instance when someone got hurt, or God-forbid, killed, and the witness to it didn't try to help the victim, nor did they come forward to share what they knew. They turned a blind eye, and hoped that the problem would go away." Jeanette spoke solemnly, seeing that Simon wasn't going to speak again. Perhaps he had been waiting for it to sink in, but someone needed to fill the silence. Her speaking was purely voluntary; she _volunteered_ to help her best friend, and nothing less was asked of her. His grateful look that he sent her way was all the thanks she wanted.

"While I apologize if the theme sounds too morbid." Simon spoke when Jeanette finished. "We all know what I'm trying to say. While I pray that we all take the message to heart, I pray even harder that none of us would ever be put in that situation, or become victims of a horrid fix like that."

And then the crowd erupted started clapping. It began with a single person as always in a remote location, but soon spread like an infectious viral epidemic that took control of everyone. Right so until for a lengthy period, and only feeding the lopsided and embarrassed-looking grin on Simon's face. In that moment, he thanked Jeanette in his mind. He made a mental note to tell her vocally, as she deserved.

Alvin cleared his throat, and the sound carried. "We all thank you, but as always, I regret to inform you that it's time for the finisher. And as I said," He grinned widely. "It's the last, so you know it's the best!"

"YEAH!"

"We have one of our very own, who wants to open her heart for all of you…" Alvin began his introduction.

Brittany gulped; she could have sworn she heard it broadcasted and mentally kicked herself for it.

"Aw, I started off too cheesy…" The Seville moaned, and the crowd cheered/laughed again in appreciation for the joke. "But on a serious note, people, here's Brittany with her own song. She only wrote one line a day, so you know that it's only the very best, in a concentrated form." The chipmunk turned and nodded to her. "Get up to the front, Brittany. It's all yours."

The chipette walked slowly to the fore in tentativeness. In the meantime, Alvin retreated to the stage entrance and swapped his guitar for the acoustic that Dave handed him. "Don't mess this up for Brittany, Alvin." The man warned.

"Never." The chipmunk mouthed to him, and it made his father smile.

'My son's growing up.'

The man gave Alvin a mic stand that was pre-lengthened to Alvin's waist height to support the sound coming from the guitar. It was at his insistence to go as natural as possible, and hopefully, everything could be pulled off right as instruments were concerned. The only thing left, was for Brittany to sing.

"Good morning, everyone." She said clearly. She was a bit thrown off when the chorused the selfsame response to her, but she shook it off. "The song's title is 'So Far Away.' It's dedicated to Ms. Miller, who…passed on just a little over a year ago."

The audience fell quiet in the stadium. Brittany's nerves were going haywire, but she soon calmed down when she could have heard Alvin whisper 'It's alright' over his microphone, for all to hear. She turned back to look at him, and he gave her a nod and a thumbs-up. He abandoned his plectrum to go for the lower and 'sweeter' notes, and started to tap his foot in an effort to bring up the tune in his mind. Theodore and Simone did not neglect their role either, and after a twelve second intro, Brittany found herself again, and started to sing in the best poignant voice she could muster. It was all genuine.

 _Never feared for anything._

 _Never shamed but never free._

 _A life to heal to heal the broken heart,_

 _With all that it could._

Her confidence wavered a bit, but she continued none the less.

 _Lived a life so endlessly,_

 _Saw beyond what others see._

 _We tried to heal your broken heart,_

 _With all that we could._

She waved her hand behind her, gesturing to her sisters. They all wore small, sad smiles as they hummed to the tune in their own fashions; that is, very lowly, to supplement Simon's pianism.

 _Will you stay~?_

 _Will you stay away~ forever?_

 _How do I live, without the ones I love?_

 _Time still turns the pages of the book its burned._

 _Place and time, always on my mind._

 _I have so much to say, but you're so far away._

The chorus completed, but not before she started to choke up a bit with tears streaming. She quickly swiped at them messily, before continuing, lest the tune leave her behind.

 _Plans of what our futures hold._

 _The foolish lies of growing old._

 _It seems we're so invincible,_

 _The truth is so cold~._

 _A final song, a last request._

 _A perfect chapter laid to rest._

 _Now and then I try to find~ a place in my mind._

The memories of the previous year returned in full force, recalling how she kept to herself. That is, until Alvin showed up. She had never been that grateful to or for anyone, unless one counted the time when she came into Ms. Miller's care.

 _Where you can stay,_

 _You can stay away forever._

 _How do I live, without the ones I love?_

 _Time still turns the pages of the book its burned._

 _Place and time, always on my mind._

 _I have so much to say, but you're so far away_

She tasted salt running into her mouth; she had teared up again. But she didn't care.

 _Sleep tight, I'm not afraid._

 _The ones that we love are here with me._

She could hear a distinct change in the strumming of the guitar; that part might've caught the red guitarist off guard. But she meant everyone. Eleanor, Jeanette, herself, Theodore, Simon and Alvin all loving each other, as they should be.

 _Lay away a place for me._

 _Cause as soon as I'm done,_

 _I'll be on my way~,_

 _To live~ eternally._

She paused, and let all the others pick up the instrumentals and humming that was very similar to what she had just sang in a haunting echo. She took the moment to run her sleeved arm over her face to wipe away the evidence of her crying previously. Thank goodness that she had had the foresight to skip makeup tonight, for she had had a feeling that the song would have upset her emotions. She turned and smiled at the others, and they all smiled back. She checked herself, and continued.

 _How do I live, without the ones I love?_

 _Time still turns the pages of the book its burned._

 _Place and time, always on my mind._

 _I have so much to say, but you're so far away._

 _And the light you left remains, but it's so hard to stay._

 _When I have so much to say, and you're so far away._

The large and massive screen that was over the stage that had shown them all night to the audience suddenly started flickering through a slideshow of pictures, titled 'Precious Memories'. It was a rather large collection: when they first came into the elder woman's care when they were far younger, picnics, early concerts, 'play dates' with their counterparts, and so on. In all of these pictures, Ms. Miller was in all of them, or was the one who took the picture. Finally, as the instrumentals caught up to the song, the slideshow ended on a picture that showed all of the chipmunks and the chipettes in their 'classic clothing' standing shoulder-to-shoulder with their counterparts. Theodore and Eleanor in front, Alvin and Brittany giving each other horns with digits, and the pair next to them was Simon and Jeanette, and behind them all was Mr. Seville, and Ms. Miller.

Brittany gazed up behind at it, and smiled to herself. Next came the parts of the song that she herself wasn't really a fan of; they were extremely controversial, but everyone needed to know just how bad it got when she was in her room by herself.

 _I love you,_

 _You were ready._

 _The pain is strong, and urges rise~._

 _But I'll see you, when he lets me,_

 _Your pain is gone, your hands untied._

 _So~ far~ away~!_

 _And I need you to know~._

 _So~ far~ away~!_

 _And I need you to, need you to know._

The song completed, and Brittany sighed as the instrumentals faded. "I love you, Mom."

The audience was hushed for the whole period, and all watched as the rising sun finally beamed it's rays in from the side that lit up the stage, while all of the chipmunks and chipettes themselves applauded Brittany's performance. The crowd took up the cue, and soon, they were collectively yelling their hands off in appreciation, and set their hands ablaze in their clapping.

Alvin readjusted his headset. "Thank you, everyone, for coming out. We appreciate it, and take care." He quickly returned the traditional guitar back to Dave, and got back his own original one. He slung it on, and motioned to his brothers that they were playing an upbeat instrumental while the crowds left in their dispersal.

"On the count of three."

"On three, or after?" Theodore asked. Eleanor pulled on his cheek a little in while cooing a bit.

"On three." Simon reaffirmed. On the count, they played an upbeat tune while everyone cleared the stadium.

 **=X=X=**

"Well, that's it. Time to hit the sack." Jeanette muttered backstage, as she popped open a can of soda. "Hmm. I just got the feeling of Déjà vu."

Simon opened his as well. "You too, huh."

"Uh huh. Anyway, I think you're a good poet. Trying to change your mind about how you view the world?" She teased, before shying slightly away from his gaze.

"Of course not. I might dabble in it from time to time, but I'm still into the straight facts, Jean."

" But whatever made you write one on that topic?" The chipette asked.

Simon leaned over to her as if discussing a conspiracy. "Remember the accident? You know, the one-"

"Last year? I know." She whispered back. "I haven't forgotten, Si."

"I still think it was a kamikaze death-run."

She frowned at this. "I still don't see why anyone would do something like that. Besides, Ms. Miller was always-"

"Terrible at driving?" He finished. "She was driving on a straight, fairly lit road that was well defined with line margins. You told me that, and I know the route. Someone just crashed into all of you, and no one ever found the next driver. So either the other person was at fault, or they did it on purpose. I was calling them out. Besides," He continued. "You also said she was driving straight, she never swerved of anything into the other lane."

The purple chipette sighed as she looked around at her brothers and sisters. Eleanor was chatting excitedly with Theodore, and Brittany was sitting by herself, oblivious of Alvin's stare. "Do we tell them?"

Simon felt a pang of guilt. Now, he could be holding two secrets. Now, it was him and Jeanette from the others about their suspicions, and the secret he and his brothers were holding from the chipettes. 'Something just adds up, and at the same time, makes no sense. The Millers were coming back from the East when they met up in the accident. Dave basically crosses out the eastern states as if he hates it. And then the musicians quit. And Theodore's statement of them being afraid. I…have to figure this out on my own.' He re-met her violet eyes and realized that she was still waiting on his answer. "N-no. Not now."

"But we will. Right?"

"Right. They're all so emotional right now, and it mightn't be the best time. It looks like Brittany's crying, our youngest siblings are fairly happy and Alvin's…"

"Being Alvin?" The middle-chipette volunteered.

"Yeah." Simon answered. He continued to look at Alvin, and soon saw him turn his gaze to a newcomer who suddenly appeared backstage where they themselves and the stage managers were. His eyes widened and as Simon followed his gaze, his eyes widened as well.

"Ravin' Raven?!" Alvin yelled the question, eying the artiste. "I can't believe he's here!"

"Well I can." The so-called 'God of Rap-Metal' chuckled in return. "I can, Alvin. I can, indeed."

 **['Iridescent' belongs to 'Linkin Park.']**

 **['So Far Away' belongs to 'Avenged Sevenfold']**

 **-Whistles. Yeah. Plot thickens, and all of that. Well, I hope you're pleased with the double update. I know I am. Sometimes, I disappoint myself reading my own stories. You know, because I know what happens or will happen. Spoils it for me. But I take comfort in knowing that I'm one of the small number on the site who update regularly, to a schedule no less. Hip-hip-hooray.**

 **-Yep. I'm a rock fan. All alternative versions of it, some metal, some pop, but modern rock is where it's at. But don't worry, I won't force it on you. It's just that rock songs have a lot of messages, while Pop just seems centered on teen dramas nowadays. If a song sounds questionable, I won't post it. (If you're paranoid about Satanism and all that. In that case, I'm not too sure how you'll take 'Iridescent's video. Mm hmm. But that's just me talking. You have your own opinions.) As I said, I search the ton-load of songs that litter the internet. Most relevant gets the spot. Or I'll write one. I already have three done, anyway.**

 **-'The Perfect Crime' is mine. You want it? Sure. Just tell me that you will, or are using it; gimme some credit. No one likes plagiarism.**

 **-Avenged Sevenfold music sounds as if they're Satanists? Well, opinions-opinions. I can't tell you what I think without sounding biased. But this one song really fit. Can't you tell from the lyrics? Though please note, I changed certain words like 'I' to 'We' to suit the chipettes in general. (E.g. First verse.)**

 **Well, that's that. Dave's alive, the chappie's done, and please review.**

 **Valete omnes,**

 **MRAY 4TW.**


	7. Chapter 7

**AATC: Territory**

 **I'm enjoying working on this fic. Uh huh. I am.**

 **Really. It's a fairly pleasant change from writing about mercenary ninja killing each other with fire and blades.**

 **Anyway, time for 'lucky' chapter 7. I hope you enjoy it.**

 **7.**

"Ravin' Raven?" Dave asked nervously. "What brings you here? Not that we don't want you here, of course…"

"It's all cool, C and C. No need to fret, everything's fine, so far as I can see." The man answered with a smile, although Dave noted that it didn't quite reach his eyes.

"Rhymes, huh?" Alvin piped up. "Even in your normal sentences?"

"If I feel like it, no matter what kind of deal it is."

"It's like he's always one step ahead of us to rhyme." Eleanor whispered to her counterpart. "Weird."

Alvin must have heard the comment as they gathered in front of the man. "It's not _weird_ , its awesome."

"It is alright. After this one, I'm done."

"Told you." Eleanor said louder. "It's a bit…creepy."

"It's amazing!" The red Seville exclaimed. "Did you come to the concert?"

"Sorry to say, I missed most of it coming over here." Vincent said apologetically. "All I could catch was your recreation of 'Iridescent', which I think is even better than the original."

"Wow! Really?"

"Yeah! And Simon's poem. It sounded really ambitious, easy to follow, although the line 'Don't listen to this just for the rhymes', threw me for a loop for a second."

"…Oh…" The blue chipmunk stumbled as he searched for words to respond with. "I d-don't know what to say. T-t-thank you."

"Mm hmm. And the lovely young lady's song. 'So Far Away', I believe you called it."

Brittany smiled at the compliment. "Thanks, Ravin' Raven."

"Please, the name's Vincent. That name's only for the stage." The metal-rap singer corrected. "Anyway, the reason I came over was to express invitations-"

"I'm sure it can wait. We're all very tired." Dave interrupted, heavily exaggerating a yawn. "They've been at it all night, and I'm sure that they're exhausted."

Jeanette agreed. "Oh yeah. Bed sounds good." Theodore agreed with her and as he yawned, the contagious effect of it spread among the sextet.

"But whatever he came all the way out here to say to us must be really important!" Alvin voiced his complaints with a scowl on his face. "Shouldn't we at least hear him out first?"

"We can talk in my limo as we drive over to your hotel." Vincent suggested. "Just tell me which one it is, I'll take you, and that's that."

"We can take the van guys." Dave said urgently. "C'mon."

Simon noted his guardian's behavior as suspicious. Something was definitely strange with what the way the man was carrying on. But the moment fled as everyone recalled the van, and what curse came with it.

"Nope! Don't think so, Dave." Alvin said matter-of-factly. "Mr. Ravin' Raven, lead the way, please."

The man grinned widely, before he beckoned for them to follow him. They all begun to do so, despite Dave's insistence not to, but the man soon gave up and decided to come along as well should anything awry develop. After he left some instructions to stage technicians, they made their way through the backstage area and exited it to find themselves in the early morning sunlight. Blinking as their eyes achieved proper dilation, they felt the urge to whistle as they glimpsed the black stretch Limousine. It was parked out front at the sidewalk on their side of the street, (which the C &C 'thinkers' and Dave believed to be illegal) Alvin was sure that it took up around three or even more parking spaces.

"Wow, that's a whole lot of car, Mr. Vincent." Theodore remarked. "Don't you worry about turning corners?"

'I wouldn't need to worry about corners in Podunk places. At least the capital here is fine.' "Sometimes, but I don't always use the Limo. It's only for vanity sometimes, or to throw off the fans as a decoy when I want to be left alone." He opened the door and gestured them inside.

"That's clever," Simon congratulated as stepped inside. Their chipmunk physiology didn't really require to them to bow their upper torsos to get into lower vehicles like cars. They were short enough to merely duck heads if needs be to get in. "A lure to get them elsewhere, is it not?"

'He's supposed to be the smart one, huh? Wasn't that obvious?' "Yeah, Simon." Ravin' Raven got in last, and closed the door behind him as he sat at the window. He pressed a button near him, and a small bell dinged somewhere closer to the front. It was a signal of some sort, and apparently it was for the driver to begin driving.

"The seats are comfy enough to sleep in," Jeanette sighed. She was about to get ready to do that if Dave hadn't touched her on the arm.

"Don't do that, Jeanette. It'd be impolite to Mr. Vincent because it clear he wants to _talk_ to us," He chastised. Quickly checking himself for his emotions, he collected himself to hold a reasonable conversation.

Alvin noticed it, but didn't pay any real mind to it. He would have loved to say that Ravin' Raven was his favorite music artiste, if he himself didn't occupy that position already. "So, what'd you want to talk to us about?"

"Oh. Before that, would anyone like any refreshments? The limo has dispensers."

A few minutes later after Theodore had most certainly taken up the man's offer, the man begun to speak again. "Well, the thing is, I've been thinking about a concert. A huge concert, and it's also a birthday bash."

'Given how large his damn ego is, I'd say it's his birthday bash.' Dave thought. "Whose birthday?"

"It's for me, but it's also a fundraising event. Children's Hospital. And I want 'C & C' to perform there as special guests, in tandem with me. In New Jersey, that is."

"Wow! What an offer! Of course we'll come!" Alvin exclaimed, leaping up out of his seat and shaking the man's hand eagerly. "You can count on us to be there!"

"Alvin…" Dave warned in a low tone. The red Seville got back into his seat in a hurry, and even buckled up as a token show of obedience; minding how he had promised his father 'angelic behavior' a few nights ago. "My son, bless his enthusiasm, doesn't speak for all of us."

"That's actually a good thing." Brittany piped up. "If he did, God help us." She ignored her counterpart's growl and smiled to herself. 'It's so easy to get a rise out of him.'

"Anyway," David continued. "I'm sorry to say that we can't come."

"Aw, Dave!" Alvin got really emotional, _really_ quick. "It's Ravin' Raven, for crying out loud! Won't we be disappointing him if we don't come?"

"I was thinking of merging our concerts in Jersey. All it needs is a little re-titling." Vincent explained.

"Whoa, whoa," Simon pushed up his glasses farther up his nose and peered at the rapper. "I'm hearing a lot of future tenses. You mean to say that you have yet to do so?"

"That's true, Simon."

'Dave's been touchy about New Jersey. Vincent here doesn't know that Dave wants to cancel it, if he hasn't done it already.' "Um, Dave? Didn't you say that you cancelled the concert for the Garden State?"

"Why, yes I did, Simon." The man agreed. "Some posters might still be up but all the sold tickets will be refunded at the place of their purchase."

"Won't that make your fans angry?" Vincent fumed on the inside, but didn't let it affect his exterior. "I mean, what's wrong with Jersey, huh?"

"Nothing's wrong with Jersey," Dave ventured very carefully, dodging the query of angry fans as well as upsetting Vincent. "I'm citing a school reason. They're going back to school in couple weeks, and I want them all settled in by that time."

"It's one night, Dave!" Alvin yelled. He was about to continue when he saw Simon shake his head to him, mouthing for him to calm down. Eyeing Dave's frown, he decided to take the silent advice. "It's just that…well, it's a fundraiser. That's noble, right?"

"Of course it is, Alvin." Dave answered. 'But if I know Vincent here, he's just trying to make excuses, and using guilt to get us to agree with him. But why?'

"Then why can't we go then?" Eleanor asked. "We do fundraisers all the time. One more can't hurt."

"Yeah, we're helping people." Theodore agreed between mouthfuls of chocolate bars. 'This is really good. Where is it made? Ecuador? I heard Eleanor tell me once that they have the best chocolate…'

"Before Dave goes into a hour-long explanation," Jeanette stated. "Let me remind you that all of our concerts, particularly this tour as well, has opted for half the proceeds to be given to charities, and the rest to be divvied up to pay us, all of the technicians, venue rent and the like."

"…" Simon grinned. "I couldn't have said it better, myself." The chipette smiled in recognition, and leaned back again, closing her eyes.

"So, I take it as a no, then?"

"What I'm saying is, perhaps another time, Mr. Vincent." Dave said firmly. "We're on an airtight schedule, and we have to leave soon. But, seeing as I never knew your birthday to be on that concert date, 'Happy birthday' when it comes."

The man nodded. "Thanks. It's no problem. Next time, when we have no other obligations, we all can take the stage."

"Yeah!" Alvin cheered. "Although I would have still liked to go to Jersey. That would have been one epic bash, huh?"

"Alvinnn…"

The vehicle slowed to a stop. "We're here." Ravin' Raven announced. "See yah later, 'C & C', David."

Dave opened the doors, and let himself out as well as his charges. "That's fine. Thanks for the offer, the transportation, and the hospitality."

"The chocolate too!" Theodore cried. "Thanks, RR!"

The man nodded as the tinted windows rolled up again, hiding each other from view. It was a one-way view and subsequently, Dave didn't see that Vincent had spat over the place his face was from his point-of-view, and mutter expletives to himself.

The vehicle drove off, and Alvin waved after it. "I wish we could've gone to it."

"Just drop it, Alvin." Dave warned again. "I really don't need this drama. Besides, don't you all want to sleep? You've all had another long night."

Jeanette, especially, needed no further prompting to head inside to find her room.

 **=X=X=**

"Eleanor?"

"Yeah, Theo?"

"A lot of times, Simon calls himself 'Alvin's smarter brother.'"

"Hurts your feelings?"

"N-no."

"What's this all about?"

They were at fairly unoccupied fast-food restaurant. Their table was right next to the window, but only the chipette had something to eat. It was only a small meal, but in her defense, she only wanted it for the fries. She felt a bit self-conscious eating in front of him, but he only took a bit of her offering politely, more than anything else.

He took out a chocolate bar out of his pocket, and gave it to her. "Here Ellie."

"Oh? Chocolate?"

"Well…" He stumbled. "I am giving it to you. I got it from the Limo's dispenser. You didn't take any, so I felt like you missed out. You told me once that Ecuador has the best chocolate, so…"

"Aww, isn't that sweet…" She pinched his cheeks and cooed, never-minding his blush. "It's nice to know that you're so considerate. We'll have it later, if you want."

"It's yours. But that's not really the issue, Ellie. Its just that…" He hesitated for a full minute. "Am I dumb?"

"What? Of course not!" She couldn't believe what she just heard. "If anything, you're a bit gullible, sometimes overly trusting, but that makes you…you! You're not dumb! You're Theodore! The 'cutest' chipmunk!" She said with a smile.

He knew what gullible meant, and understood that he could be a poor judge of people's character sometimes, but he also knew that had nothing to do with smarts. 'But why did she say that I'm the 'cutest' chipmunk' like that? People still think of me that way? Does she think of me that way?' "Thanks, Eleanor. It's just that…well, Alvin's headstrong and plays the guitar while doing solos, Simon's smart and plays a lot of instruments, and I'm just the chipmunk at the back. I'm…"

"Theodore." She finished, while at the same time, chastising him. "You think the drums are easy to play? The drums are supposed to be the most complicated to play while singing. You do that, don't you?"

"Yeah. But sometimes I feel like I'm not really contributing something. Most times, I t-turn down long solos and I'm comfortable at the back because I'm…I dunno…"

"Shy."

"Shy?"

"Yes, shy. But a lot of people are shy. There's nothing wrong with that. But Theo, you know that the drums pull the songs together. We all rely on the beat to keep the song's tune together. And you do that twirling things with the drumsticks! That looks cool." She gushed. "I'm beside you when you play, and I don't have to worry about it when you do it. I bet that if your brothers were doing it, I'd have to wear goggles to protect my eyes, if you know what I mean."

"Twirling?" He did take pride in that. He always practiced it to himself when he was younger, even so much he believed that he could keep at it for hours in his sleep. "Well…thanks Ellie."

"No problem. Now let's divide that thing. It's making my mouth water."

He put his hand over hers and squeezed it gently. "You're the bestest, Ellie."

She blushed heavily at this. "'Bestest'?" She asked with a chuckle.

"I'm Theodore," he answered with a smile. But underneath the happy exterior, he hoped for the best. He could tell that trouble was brewing. Perhaps it was because he was so 'innocent' was why he could be sensitive to it, like a licked finger to the breeze. Something was going to happen soon, and they were going to be at the center of it.

In fact, he _really, really_ hoped that they would be okay. But right now, what mattered was that he and his best friend were together, and sharing what they loved.

Life was good. For now, at least.

 **=X=X=**

" _Care package ready for delivery. Show us where you want it."_

"I gotta say, Alvin, it's a lot of fun killing you and getting all these score-streaks."

"Quiet, you!" Alvin re-spawned his character and controlled him to throw a tactical grenade, and charged into the building where Brittany's character was. But unfortunately, he ran straight into a strategically-placed claymore explosive.

"Boom!" Brittany cheered, as the battle announcer told her that she had a 'sentry gun ready for placement.'

Alvin groaned. "Are you sure that you're not doing something special, like cheating with infinite ammo or something?"

"I just got quick fingers, is all." She said smugly. "I've got quicker reflexes than you, which also goes to show how I saved your life earlier this week."

"Gah! Will you ever let me live that down?"

"Nope!" She grinned widely. "Better luck next time. Although for next time, it means that if I'm not playing against you. Sooo sorry."

"Dead again?!" Alvin exclaimed. "Dang! Call of Duty's my thing! I can't believe I'm losing to a girl!"

"Excuse me?" The pink chipette glared.

"Alvin!" Jeanette chastised. "Are you a chauvinist?"

"Wha...?"

"She's asking you if you think boys are better than girls," Simon explained. "Better answer wisely. We're getting our butts handed to us 19-8."

They were playing on system linked consoles next to each other. They were in fact previous generation Xbox 360's, but that didn't matter to them. The chipmunks had one television, the chipettes the next. They were having fun with each other, but it was plain to Dave who stood behind them to 'chaperone their language' that they didn't want to admit it; they were hiding it under a sense of competition. But that was mostly his red son and Brittany; Simon and Jeanette apparently only stayed behind to play because no one wanted to repeat what happened when they were out jogging in the previous state.

"Well, wrap it up guys, the first team to make it to thirty wins. Although I wish that you wouldn't play these violent games." The man observed. As he watched, he saw that Brittany apparently found out about a new button inside the gearstick, and slashed the throat of Alvin's character. "Can't you play something else?"

"We could play Scrabble, but I'm not in the mood to play it with Alvin." Simon said dryly. "He constantly claims that his _made_ - _up_ words exist, just because he says so."

"Well, they do!" The red Seville defended. "They're made with real _letters_ , don't they?"

Jeanette sighed. "Or having to deal with him constantly leafing through the dictionary when he claims that our words were made up as well. He threw a fit when I told him that 'antidisestablishmentarianism' is a real word."

"That word's a whole sentence, Jean!" Brittany exclaimed. "Who would use a word like that?" Her sister was about to answer, but Brittany shut it down, claiming that it was a rhetorical question, since she 'didn't care'.

The match soon ended with Alvin claiming that he wanted a rematch in the near future, but his counterpart merely told him that was if she 'felt like it.' He nearly blew up, had it not been for his father's gaze that told him to 'turn it off, and get ready for bed'.

 **One hour later, Alvin sat** on the window seat and gazed up at the stars. The morning's events had plagued him in his sleep today, and during his game time with the others. It was now 10:00 p.m., and he yawned as he gazed up at the stars. They were like twinkling pepper-lights, and found it strange that he had never noticed them like that before.

He felt his mind wander through many 'processing tasks' at the same time. Thinking of Dave's excessively polite behavior with Ravin' Raven as if he 'didn't like' the man. Thinking of how his adoptive father really wanted to avoid New Jersey. Thinking of how the stars reminded him of-

He shook his head to clear it. However, as he did so, he found himself humming a tune to a song he heard not too long ago. He didn't quite remember the lyrics; they teased him mentally, and refused to come to him. But at the very least he remembered the general melody of it.

"Mmhm mm hm hmhmm hm hmm…"

"Hmm mm hmm hmm, hmm mm hmm hmm…"

As he caught himself humming, he followed through with the tune quite melodically, even so that he didn't even remember the lyrics. He actually got lost in his efforts to do it so well that he didn't even hear footsteps behind him.

And then a hand touched him on his shoulder.

"…Hmm-whaa!" He gasped for breath as he flinched to turn to where the physicality took place. "Brittany?!"

"Sorry for scaring you half to death."

"Me? Scared?" He asked disbelievingly. He saw her raise an eyebrow, but didn't relinquish too much leeway. "You startled me, but I don't _get_ scared."

"Oh really?" She asked in an obviously unimpressed manner. "I never would have thought that judging from your shriek."

"Guys don't shriek."

She decided to drop the matter. "Fine, fine. Just wanted to say goodnight, Mr. Hummer. By the way, which song was that?"

"Song?" The Red Seville stared upwards towards his forehead in thought. "Hmm. I can't remember the name of it. I only know the tune," he answered truthfully. And he was indeed sincere.

"I guess it doesn't matter. Listen, we're probably leaving Richmond in a couple of days and I was thinking that we could…" She trailed off, trying to muster up the nerve to tell him what she wanted.

"Uh huh? What is it?"

"…Sightsee a little…?"

"…"

"You know, explore what this capital has to offer…" She rambled. "Err, just the two…of…us…?"

"I spent a lot of time this week exploring what this place has to offer with my whole body." He stated plainly, hinting to his Parkour hobby. "But if it means that much to you, I'll be your tour guide to make sure you don't get lost."

Brittany stared at him stupidly. "Lost?! I've got more sense of direction in one finger than you have in your whole body!"

"Oh _sure_. You'd be lost without me in no time! "He retorted. "Maybe even less!"

She rolled her eyes. "How can something be less than no time, huh genius?"

"So you admit it!"

"What?! I didn't admit to anything!"

"Oh yes you did-"

A rather confident-sounding set of knocks came at the door, interrupting the chipmunk's turn of speech. They both watched as Dave heaved himself up from around his table to approach the door, calling out a fairly standard 'Who is it?'.

"It's Valerie." A woman's voice called.

Dave racked his brain, trying to think of who had that name. It sounded like something he should be able to remember, but couldn't for the life of him. "I can't say that I know or remember you. Sorry."

"I'm one of your traveling stage technicians. I drove over your minivan to come give you the keys. You left it on a table backstage. Right next to your half-drunk energy drink."

The man's eyes widened, before he slapped his forehead. 'How could I have forgotten about that? I've got too much on my mind…' He unlocked the door using the button on the doorknob and opened it. "Well, thank you Val-" He stopped and stared at the gorgeous woman who stood just outside in the hallway. "-erie…"

He developed an eye for detail and observation over the years, thanks to his demanding work, or to the fact of observing his most troublesome adopted son. The lights in the hallway were just bright enough to cast a perfect semi-dark silhouette of her form that generously exaggerated the contours of her form. He guessed her to be 5 feet and seven inches tall, his age, and noted her to be a red-head.

Wow.

"I…I'm sure that I should be able to remember someone like you…" He mumbled as he stepped aside a bit to let her in.

She stepped inside and gazed at him with an uplifted eyebrow to give her a puzzled look. "What d'ya mean, 'like me'?"

"Oh, err…" 'Quick, David, think of something!' "Red hair, I mean. That's something that's rare and easy to spot, isn't it?"

"I, uh, got out the brown dye only yesterday," she admitted. She fished out the key on its chain to the van from her pocket and held it up to him. "Here's your key."

The man, in turn observed her hand and noted her lack of jewelry; specifically, any rings that showed that she were in a commitment with someone else. The moment passed before he took the keys from her. "Thanks. I hope this didn't inconvenience you?"

"If you're talking about me going out of my way to get it to you, not really." She answered. "I'm staying here in this hotel as well. My superiors just told me to get it to you since we're occupying the same hotel. If you're talking about the transportation…" She trailed off, seeing the man's frown. "Well, at least it had seatbelts."

The paternal Seville chuckled at the joke. "That's one thing we can agree on. You should have heard the lot of them going on about how terrible the shocks were."

"Oh! You mean the 'chips?'"

"'Chips'?"

"Oh yeah. The techs call them that to be short. Anyway, tomorrow, and all that. I'm gonna turn in." She yawned into the palm of her hand as she shrugged. He stared at her in multiple glances, completely awed that such a simple thing that she did appeared elegantly done. Mentally slapping himself, he steeled himself to ask her an indirect question if she wanted to stay awhile.

"Do you want a nightcap, or something?" He asked unsurely, hoping she'd say yes. But to his utmost disappointment, she declined.

"Hmm. No thanks. Maybe another time. 'Night."

"'Goodnight. And thanks for bringing over the van."

She started to walk out of the room as she spoke again. "I'll do it again if the van's easier on my bum. Otherwise, don't count on it."

He laughed again as he closed the door behind her. "Well, that's that." He turned to see Alvin and Brittany standing right behind him. "What?"

Alvin grinned. "Ol' Dave's trying to bust a move on a lady! My respect for you just increased, old man!"

The man scowled heavily. "I'm **not** old! Go to bed, Alvin. You too, Brittany. Your room across the hall."

Brittany shrugged before letting herself out. "Okay. Tomorrow, Alvin."

Dave did not miss her saying that to his son. "So…you and Brittany, huh?"

"What?! No way!" Alvin protested. "I mean, never, never, never, not in a million years, not even if we're the last two people alive on earth, never, never, never-"

"Me thinks you protest too much. Now go to bed. _Now_."

The chipmunk decided to beat a hasty retreat while he still had his blush down and dignity intact and made a beeline for his bed. Dave whistled to himself, gloating in his victory; keeping his son's eye off of himself by distracting him by making him flustered worked like a charm. It was the oldest trick in the book of parenting, and Alvin had fallen for it hook, line and sinker.

'Me? Bust a move on a lady? I most certainly did not. I hope I didn't come off as desperate, though…"

 **Oh yeah. That's all for this chapter. Nothing more could be added without doing a whole new scene and whatnot.**

 **Today, we had some character development for the youngest counterparts, a little bit more of the usual Alvittany, and Dave who just…met someone. Oh boy, consult chapter one. The guy's feeling…older. I typed it clearly, in black and white.**

 **That's that. It's now 01:15 a.m., and I got daily life to live tomorrow. Err, later, I mean. Review, if you feel like commenting. This chapter will, or rather** _ **has**_ **been posted at 7:00 p.m. The next one is at 9:00 p.m.**

 **Valete omnes,**

 **MRAY 4TW.**


	8. Chapter 8

**AATC: Territory**

 **Yet another chapter/update. Hope you enjoy reading it as much (or more) than I did typing it up. Really. While I don't type all that fast and sometimes it hurts, I just wish someone else could just tailor/type/write this chapter to what I'm thinking. Too bad my mic's defective and my accent is a bit too thick sometimes. No dictating speech.**

 **8.**

"What do you think of her?"

"She's…pretty, I guess? What's this all about?"

"Oh, nothing." She answered. The chipmunk next to her stared at her for a second, but decided that he wouldn't drop the matter just yet.

"It's the first thing you said after you practically dragged me with you to go on this walk. I haven't even woken properly, the way it's early."

"Alvin…it's ten am," Brittany deadpanned. "And I'm only saying that because I saw you staring at her when she and Dave were talking at the door."

"Of course I was staring. And even out of the corner of my eyes, I saw you staring at her too!" He defended himself by casting an impromptu judgment as her as well. "You're like 'Get up, Alvin. Time for the walk.' You drag me outta my comfy bed, and after around twenty minutes of silence, the accusation."

"…" She took a moment of pause to consider this. "Uh huh. Alright. _Good morning, Alvin._ " She stressed out the pleasantry, so much so that it nearly sounded anything but. "Did you sleep well?"

"Um…yeah? Thanks…?" He mumbled unsurely. Thinking of her question, he now saw that her face hinted that she had had a slow night. One that she probably spent most of awake. "Good morning. But uh, you don't look like you had sweet dreams. You didn't lose it over me, did'ya?"

"Of course not!" She nearly spat. With a sigh, she reigned in her emotions but failed for the most part. She could at least be courteous to the chipmunk next to her, but she still dug up a lot of emotional baggage the day before. It was as she feared it would for performing the song. She could suppress the emotions while she was being 'distracted' by certain daily activities and such, but otherwise, and especially on her own, she would be likely to fall back into her previous state of exactly one year ago.

She desperately wished that such another event would never come to pass.

"Then why? Nightmare?"

That did have some part to play. She had that same recurring memory as a nightmare every night, without fail. But she hadn't told anyone. She didn't want anyone worrying over her, like some kind of a mother hen. She had to be strong, someone the others could look up to. She was Brittany! Confidence was synonymous with her name, personality, status and…not to mention that if she wasn't, Alvin would suspect that something was wrong. He'd done enough; she'd look weak and too dependent if she let him or allowed him to find out.

"No."

He smirked. "Jealous that I stared at a pretty girl?"

"Egh hem." She faked clearing her throat. "I'm not jealous. And she's not a girl, she's a **woman**. As in, old enough to be your mother. Or maybe even your grandmother if you really are the age you act."

"What…?" It took a moment for it to sink in. "Wh- hey! I'm not some immature kid!"

"And that's the kind of behavior that proves that you are." She replied in a half-giggling state. "Yelling your head off in public like you're having a tantrum like some toddler."

He growled. "I was only staring because I was trying to remember if I had ever seen her before. I never had, alright?"

"You mean, 'never have', don't you?" She corrected.

"Please don't carry on like our 'smarter siblings'," he chastised. "I know that people say that my ego's as big as a mountain-"

"Err, make that _several mountains._ "

"Fine. Mountains, planet earth, the sun, I don't care. What I'm saying is I'm sure I would have remembered someone like her."

"Well, me too." She admitted. "I can't remember her either. But she did say that she had dyed her hair but only got it out the day before. Maybe we didn't see her during the set up yesterday and thought 'hey, who's the new face' last night?"

"Hmm." He stroked his chin and appeared to be deep in thought. "That's a possibility. But that's not important right now."

"Well, I think it is." Brittany stated plainly. "I heard Dave mentioning to himself that he was going to find her again to talk to her."

"You heard him say that?" Alvin asked disbelievingly.

"Oh yeah. He was thinking out loud again. You're gonna have to be careful, Alvin. Or you just might wake up and find yourself with a redheaded mom."

The chipmunk's eyes widened. "Heck no! I'll commit mur-"

"Calm down. It's just a joke. Sounds like someone's insecure about having Dave lavish his attention on them." Brittany teased. She smiled wryly as she saw him act up and mutter to himself and felt pleased, knowing that she had him in the palm of her hand. He just didn't realize it yet. She could make him flustered, embarrassed, happy, upset, and all-around emotional and he just didn't know.

'Yep. I'm superior.'

They were cutting through the park at this time and she became aware enough of herself to deeply inhale the fresh air the area had to offer. It was summer, and all around she could see children playing; flying kites, playing tag and so on. The adults were paired up as usual and huddled together on park benches and lawn-sheets on the grass. Some had been picnics apparently, or just happy to show to others in public that they and their mate were in a relationship.

She briefly wondered to herself if she could ever be of that number of paired individuals. She had never met anyone who she had liked that way; content to have them as friends, or for them to be subservient to her indomitable will. She was by no means a slave driver, but she secretly derived pleasure from being that way. Call her a horrible person, but everyone had their issues, and that was hers.

 _One_ of hers, but that wasn't the point.

"C'mon, race you back to the hotel."

Alvin ceased his episode to process what she just said. As soon as he did, he let out a guffaw. "You?! **Racing me**?! Get real!"

"Afraid you're gonna lose?"

"Hold up. I know that you've been getting real cocky since you started beating me at video games. But let me tell you this…" He nearly glared, but was able to suppress it enough for it to be more of an intimidating stare. "I am a very fitness-obsessed kind-o' guy, and I'm close to being in _the_ best shape of my life. Light on my feet, quick on my legs and fast as far as it goes for someone of my height, with endurance to match."

"The best shape of your life?" She scoffed. "Anyone in their right mind to be with you is going to be sorry they're with a wimp."

'That stings a bit, Brittany. Didn't have to go there.' "This isn't about relationships. This is about me, whether you're a guy or a girl, is going to lose to me because I'm all about running. I'm giving you the chance to back out of this challenge while you still have your dignity."

"Aw, you're such a gentleman." She stated sarcastically. "Let's race already! It was more for fun than for competition, but you ruined it."

He became slightly crestfallen. "Oh? Well, sorry, Brit. But if you're still up for it, I'll be sure to make it as close as possible. Less embarrassing for you, that is," he added the last with a smirk.

"Go!" She squealed in excitement, and took off. He stared at her fleeting figure before shaking his head. It was one kilometer back to the hotel, but according to the proper routing to make sure that they remained safe and such, it was a bit more than a mile.

He took the time to inhale and exhale deeply for around fifteen seconds to flood his red blood cells with oxygen before he jogged after her in an almost languid pace. They had started out a bit of a distance from the gate, and as far as he could see, she was following the central path…hold on…she was cutting across the grass, too.

He grinned. If she was going to go as far as to do that, then he wasn't going to handicap himself either. Sprinting now, he nearly laughed to himself as he saw her form practically rush up to meet him. She was trying, but that's as far as it went. She was previously around a hundred yards from him when he started running, and she was now fifteen.

He was remarkably comfortable now to settle back into his much slower jog and watched her form as he ran on his toes silently behind her; minding to time his steps perfectly so they'd match up evenly. She had no idea that he was that close to her as all she heard were her own noisy footsteps. And he rather liked it that way.

He had come to realize that he was a bit of a 'closet-glancer'. It was in practically in a male's DNA to glance at a female when she wasn't looking, and he wasn't exempt. He was a hormonal teenager and he tried his best to avoid the practice. Before the previous summer, he acknowledged the fact that every pretty female to chance by in his vision got an observing stare. While his sex-ed teacher had said that everyone 'suffered' to perverted habits like these, he was certain he had it the worst.

He sort of liked the habit…and loathed himself for doing it. He supposed that he had gotten cured from that when he basically locked himself in a room with Brittany to keep her company, but now, one year later, the habit had somewhat returned, and only the pink chipette had his eye.

He hated being corrected; that much was true. What he hated even more, was admitting being wrong in the first place.

'I don't like her that way…'

Then why was he staring at her as if every time was the first time? Even now as they ran?

'I can't stand her…'

Then why did he enjoy being in her company?

'She's loudmouthed…'

Then why did he love hearing her sing?

'She's bratty, arrogant, spoilt, gets on my nerves…'

Then why did he love her brash attitude?

'She's too girly for my taste…'

Then why did she take part in the things he enjoyed doing?

'Pink is a corruption of red…'

Then why did he admire the pink ribbons in her hair? Her pink blouse? Her pink eye-shadow? Her pink nail-polish?

'Hair like that is sure to get in the way of living…'

Then why did he enjoy seeing the breeze flow through her long auburn hair, even now?

'She's about as attractive as being the exact opposite of it…'

Then why did he dream of a time that one day he'll be able to kiss her?

'She doesn't like me. I shouldn't even bother being around her…'

Then why did she appreciate his presence last year? When she wanted his emotional support? When she associated herself with him as being the lead soloists for their bands? When they sung together? Even now, as she had fellowship with him by trying to involve herself in his hobbies?

'I don't care about her. Not like that, not ever…'

Then why did he tell Dave that he'd never allow anything bad to happen for her time of soloing a song, barely a day ago?

'She doesn't like me, and I don't like her…'

Then why did he feel his heart jump when she sang 'the ones that we love are here with me'?

The questions plagued his mind and threatened to drive him crazy. By the time he shook his head of the troublesome thoughts, he was nearly upon a park barricade that came up to his shoulder in height.

Shock nearly decimated his nerves as he realized he was going too fast to stop without making a sudden collision with the obstacle. He took a chance, and made a leap of faith. Quite literally, to some extent.

He made a small hop and turned himself sideways in the air. As he landed with his body adjacent to it, he jumped with all of his might up and to the right to do a side flip. At the same time, he put his right hand on the obstacle to help guide him over it and that he did. Finishing the flip on the other side, he landed on his toes, but had to do a side roll with his arms rounded out and across the broad of his back to compensate for his momentum and over-force due to his earlier panic.

The roll completed, he came back up and started running again, but realized that she now had a significant distance advantage. Somehow, he had lost his focus on her, when he had been thinking about her. He didn't even see her, and must have veered off in a straight line, much like his thoughts.

He was more confused than he thought. This…chipette had too much of a hold over him.

But for now, he'd suppress it. Right now, what mattered was getting to the hotel before her. He'd never live it down if he came second to her in a race as trivial as their current one.

He took off in a sprint, ignoring the stares of people who seemed awed at the 'stunt' he just did.

 **=X=X=**

She couldn't believe it.

She was soon to reach the hotel before the red chipmunk, and best of all, he was nowhere in sight. Well, she didn't see him pass her, so that meant he was still behind her. She assumed that meant she was winning, and he had put too much trust in his abilities. Either that, or her head start was more monumental than she thought.

"P'shaw. Slowpoke…" She whispered to herself between pants.

As she ran along the sidewalk, she took care to avoid any and all people in her way. It was fairly easy; they were all larger than her and spotty in number, and she maneuvered around them.

Her sense of direction told her that the hotel was now on her left and she saw an alley on her side of the sidewalk. No doubt, it would allow her to cut through the space to shave off running time and distance to get to her goal. She decided to take the chance it offered. Bragging rights for an eternity that she could claim she beat 'Alvin Seville the running enthusiast' in a footrace.

As she made it to the entrance of the alleyway between the apartment buildings, she turned unto it and smiled to herself when she saw daylight on the far other side. She judged no more than a hundred meters, but she could rest either when she won, or when she was more confident of a winning fore-distance.

She had been reduced to little more than a slow jog as she made her way through it; head down in concentration. She was about halfway through it when she came to a complete stop.

It wasn't of her choice.

*Bump*

"Oomph! What the-"

"Oh! Sorry." The young man said apologetically. She would have accepted the apology had she known for a fact that it wasn't her at fault for looking where she was going, or if the man's tone didn't sound so nasty. It was downright horrible, as if he was spitting each syllable at his worst enemy.

He was dressed in a srained yellow t-shirt that was badly wrinkled, jeans that were extremely ragged at the knees and crepe-soles. And to top it off, an unpleasant body odor, and a flash-in-the-pan smile that revealed yellow, bumped teeth.

"It's my…fault…?" She said testily. "Sorry, I'm in a hurry."

"Well, ain't that a coincidence." The twenty-something man said. "I'm in a hurry too."

She nodded, and tried to sidestep him to get out of his way. However, he mirrored the move and got back in her way. "Um…well, nice meeting you and all, so let's just both be on our way, heh-heh," she chuckled nervously.

"I'm pleased as well. It looks like you're heading for the…hotel?" he mused. "Since you're going to make it to your destination first, mind helping me out with some carfare?"

She didn't know what to think. This was a first, but she took out a five dollar bill from her hip-pocket and gave it to him. "Hope you get there soon, mister. Bye." She sidestepped again, but he got in her way as the repeat as he fingered the bill eagerly.

"It's a whole lot farther than just five bucks."

"It's all I have that I can spare." She muttered. "Now then, excuse me." She took off in a running step, but just as she was about to pass him, he put out his hand and stopped her by using the inside of his arm across her upper-chest.

"Sure?"

She pushed his arm away from herself and muttered to herself in exasperation before addressing him. "Yeah! Now leave me alone!"

She heard a plainly audible click and turned her head to his other arm to see him with a spring-knife in his hand, with four inches of a blade sticking out of his greasy fist. "I don't think so. Gimme everything you got, right now. Unless you want people to find your body in that dumpster over there with your throat slashed."

She paled as she saw the knife, and instantly, her heart started beating erratically out of control. She didn't know what to do, and at the same time, as he brought the knife closer to hold it in a more imposing manner in a matter of distance from her neck, she knew what she had to do.

She tried to scream, but panic had stifled it to a nearly inaudible squeak. She dug around in her pockets and just dumped out what she could find in his other hand: her last bit of spending money, her blush in her mirror cap, tissues in case of a makeup accident or for wiping small amounts of sweat and her cell phone. She nearly groaned as she realized that the phone could have been used for help, but she realized that the man wouldn't have given her a bye to call 911.

"Hurry up! Where's the rest-"

"Th-th-th-that's all I h-h-have!"

He grinned sadistically, glowering at her. He relished seeing her shiver and thought that he recognized her. Some poster, some place, somewhere. 'Hmm.' "I know you. You're some kinda singer. You must be loaded with cash! Where's the rest of it?!" His eyes quickly scanned what she gave him and he dropped all but the cash and the phone. "Twenty dollars?!" He stuffed it all into his pocket and before he grabbed her wrist with the same hand.

"It's all I have, I swear!" She begged, tears running down her face in her fright as he brought the knife closer and held it on her cheek. She could feel the blade trying to breach her flesh and her heart momentarily stopped; all thoughts left her in all haste as she prayed for deliverance.

"Don't you lie to me!" He pressed the knife harder but just enough as to not pierce the skin. All he wanted was to finance his 'needs', and this…girl or whatever-she-is was the key to it. "Hggrrrr, you're coming with me…"

"…" She cried in silence as she squirmed to get out of his grasp of her shoulder, but to no avail. He used his knife after all and nicked her on her cheek in an effort to scare her in submission. He grinned widely in a half-smirk as he saw her touch the offended cheek and her hand came away with the proof that it was bleeding.

"Quiet! Now let's go!" He dragged her off towards a secondary alleyway that ran through the current one like a cross. It appeared even more secluded than her current one and had less light to offer. She tried to wrench her wrist from his grasp but miserably failed.

Her body and mind went into hysterics as she was pulled more and more against her will into the smelly cross-alley that was heavily littered with trash at the front of it. "NO! Someone help me, please!" The chipette bawled. "HELP!"

"I said quiet!" He backhanded her with his knife-hand across her left cheek, but the pain did nothing to stop her.

"Please! Dave! Eleanor! Jeanette!"

"Shut the hell up!" He released her wrist and quickly grabbed her by the shoulder. She tried to shake him off but he had the superior strength and mass over her four-foot frame. She fearfully watched him bring the knife closer to her throat but didn't stop screaming.

"Alvin! Help!"

The man's patience ran out as his victim insisted on her screaming and struggling. "Didn't yah hear me the first time?! I said to shut the f**k up!" He pressed the knife against her throat, and was scared enough to not even hazard a swallow, lest she end up with a new way to breath. "Do y'hear me! Shut up!" He growled out like a half-muffled yell.

"Alvin, help me please…" She mumbled her plead. Her mugger must have heard her, as he seemed to yell something indefinite before he removed the knife from her throat, and slammed the handle and his fist solidly against the back of her head. Her aqua eyes glazed over as her eyelids lidded, shielding them from the world's view.

And then she knew no more.

 **Short chapter, I know. But it's a triple update. The next chapter will supersede this one by two-three hours and a higher word count. Later, then, I suppose.**

 **Valete omnes,**

 **MRAY 4TW.**


	9. Chapter 9

**AATC: Territory**

 **Yeah, yeah, not much of a cliffhanger. Yeah yeah, I used asterisks for sensoring. Yeah yeah, short chapters. They're not really, you know. I'm sure you expected one chapter every fortnight, but you got three. I impress myself.**

 **Time to conclude this update. Besides, I wanna read it for myself! Hee-hee!**

 **9.**

He dashed around the people like a red bullet, ignoring their stares and their gawking. He had no time for that. As he ran along the sidewalk, the same beat from the earlier song came into his mind, and he couldn't help but hum it again.

"Mmhm mm hm hmhmm hm hmm…"

"Hmm mm hmm hmm, hmm mm hmm hmm…"

He followed through what he believed was the chorus. He felt like it was telling him something, and that the chorus would tell him. Hopefully, he'd remember the lyrics sooner than later, or at least find the song to which it belonged.

He knew the hotel was on his left and wondered if he should cut through an alley coming up. The hotel was dangerously close, and he worried that she could have reached it already.

'Hmm. We did cut across the grass. Besides, she could've taken it to get there quicker. I'll just do it too, instead of taking the long way around these buildings.' He reasoned to himself. As he reached it, he looked through it and saw the hotel clear on the other side of it. He could make out the forms of what seemed like a father and daughter or something of the sort somewhere in the between-distance worrying and yelling over something but paid it no mind as he sprinted off into the passageway.

He was running and as he scanned ahead for any obstacles or difficulties to avoid or to take care going over, he scowled as he saw trash litter the sides of it. Some people were truly despicable when it came on to disposing of their waste. Why, look at the tissues and the-

He slowed himself to a stop, turned and backtracked to the item as he stared at the ground. "What the heck…?" He knelt down to get a better look at the object on the ground, surrounded by fragrant tissues. Even with a better observation distance, there was no mistaking the engraved **'BM'** that was on the upper-cover of the blush container.

'Brittany must have dropped this. But how? Why?' He took it up and opened it. As he had expected, the blush was pink. He got back up and placed the container into his pocket. That made him call to mind that she was wearing jeans like him and had forgone a purse, so it was near impossible that she just dropped it out of the usually close hip-pocket. 'Did she stop to put this on in the middle of a race?' He sighed. Only Brittany.

As he got ready to run again, a startling fact became known to him. The two people who he had seen earlier…the smaller of which was wearing a bright pink blouse. Now that he thought about it, the people were struggling with something or other. But they were gone now.

"Oh…shit."

He looked around sharply. 'It must have been her! Where are they?!' Alvin finally saw a narrow alleyway that intersected the larger one he was currently in. He had seen them more over to the right side, so that must have been the one they had gone in. Without even a second thought, he dashed inside the secondary alleyway, hoping with all of his being that she was alright.

 **=X=X=**

The man sloughed through the ankle deep rubbish towards his home. It was accessible via a fire escape, and it was located at the very end of the alley. As he carried the chipette over his shoulder in a 'half-torso' fashion, he could feel his excitement build to dizzying highs, akin to when he was snorting his usual 'dosage'. No doubt about it. He now remembered seeing a poster with the girl in it; her and five others. It had some sort of 'C & C' symbol on it, and they were probably famous. Even if she wasn't carrying more money like his 'usual donors', he smiled at the knowledge that he could be paid a lot of money to have her returned. He even had her phone; a few phone calls, a little planning and he could finally 'better himself' like his mother wanted him to.

"Not too far, now." He muttered. "Not too long, either. Heh heh."

He heard rapid footsteps behind him. As he turned to look behind him, a thrown beer glass-bottle was introduced to his nose, smashing it flat against his face before it bounced off.

"OW!" He brought up his free hand to cradle the injured and broken part of his face but it only made it worse. Tears welled up in his eyes as he squealed in his throat. "Who threw that?!" He stared out and saw someone about the size of a pre-teen standing stock still, fuming if his posture and heavy breathing was any indication.

"Put her down, you bastard!"

"Why, you son-of-a-…I'm gonna kill you, you damn runt!" He reached into his pocket and took out his spring-knife and pushed the button to release the blade inside. "I'll teach you to mess with me!"

The alleyway wasn't well lit. All one could really see were half-silhouettes and there was no mistake that the man was armed. But if the man could have seen the chipmunk's face, perhaps he would have been the one to run away.

If there was one thing that Alvin had learned during his brief phase of Tae Kwon-Do classes, was that he was dangerous when he was angry. He never fought fair, but more to the point, never liked fighting barehanded.

He reached down into the trash around his feet and fished around, never taking his eyes off of the man. With a horrible scowl marring his features, he pulled up a discarded mop-stick; one of the traditional sturdy wooden ones akin to walking staffs, not the cheap and easily disposable competitor. He whacked the mop head hard against the wall next to him three times and the head of it broke off, along with some of the stick. The end was now very jagged, and he pointed it at the man. "Let her go, or I'll-"

"Do what?" The man taunted. "The widdle ol' baby is gonna kill me? I'm going to stab you full of holes." He grabbed Brittany by her bum and heaved her forcefully off of himself to the ground. "C'm 'ere."

Alvin blew his stack as he saw the chipette so easily manhandled and cast aside like the very trash in which she lay among. Abandoning reason, and perhaps his sanity, he charged at the man with a throaty yell and lessened the five meter distance but at the last one, he swung the stick in a double-grip at the man's chest with all of his might.

The mugger was taken aback that the boy was actually intent on hurting him and barely protected his chest in time by using his arm to guard. It was a costly error as he had mistakenly used his knife arm and it was smacked from his grip. Not to mention that his arm felt like it was broken in two.

"Agh!"

Alvin gave him no quarter as he drew back the stick and walloped the man solidly with an over-handed strike against the fore of his head at his hairline. The sturdy stick broke over the man's head and both males yelled out their lungs, one in pain and the other in anger. The man saw flashes in his vision as he staggered from side to side in his stun; years of drug abuse must have taken a toll on his health. Blood started welling up at the injured point and ran into his open eyes. He should have been able to shrug off his hurt easier, but now he felt weak-

And then the stick connected with his right kneecap with a resounding crack, and all he felt was pain.

"GAH!" He fell unto his left side, clutching his leg, screaming his hurt to the world, but only one person heard him.

Alvin was furious as tears ran down his cheeks, before he resumed, intent on beating the man until his arms got too tired to lift again. How dare he, how dare he, how dare he! He had no right to treat her like that! She was an innocent, and-

The line of thought was lost as he swung the stick thrice more on the man's gut, his chest, and finally, his head once more and the man's screaming died down to groans, begging for mercy. "Stop…please…"

Then his head sagged down to the ground and his pained groaning ceased.

His mind caught up to his body, before he dropped the stick. "Oh my God. What am I…what am I doing?" He felt weak in the legs and he collapsed to his knees in the trash. He was probably going to continue his mental episode, had he not seen the chipette still lying motionless in the trash. "Shit! Brittany!"

He got up and ran over to her. Quickly hooking his arm under her head, he brushed off any and all refuse from her person with his other arm. "Oh God, Brittany! Wake up!" He placed his hand on her cheek and shook/mildly slapped it. "Wake UP!"

She did not even stir. Going out of his mind in hysteria fearing that she was dead, he placed his head on her chest, disregarding her bosom. He could hear the steady beat of her heart, and felt his fear only slightly lessen. "You're alive. Oh, you're alive!"

He hooked another arm under the crook of her legs and heaved her up. The adrenaline of the previous moment gave him strength, not to mention his deep-seated devotion to the chipette, and he lifted her up and closer to his chest. "I'm gonna get you outta here."

With her secure in a bridal carry, he ran away as fast as he dared with her extra weight out of the alleyway, and back to the main one. Once there, he panted, but refused to give up as he continued. His endurance was tested in a manner it had never been before, but he fought through the exhaustion.

"I'mma get you home, Brit."

He ran out of the alleyways, and back unto the street where the hotel was located. He didn't even stop to give respects to traffic as he ran across the busy street and into the general vicinity and property of the hotel grounds. He kept on as his lungs and other such physical aspects begged him to stop to at least rest a while, but he wouldn't even listen to his own body.

He was now reduced to a slow jog as he made it to the hotel grounds and into the building itself, charging past the common-folk that milled the lobby as well as the security. There were cries for him to stop, but he dared not.

He dared not.

 **=X=X=**

"No, I don't really drink."

"You said a nightcap. That usually has liquor in it."

"That's right. The keyword is 'usually'. As in, I don't usually drink."

"Fine, fine. I didn't really refuse it though. If anything, I just drink a mild wine in cocktails for my nightcaps."

"Me too. Helps me to relax without becoming dependent on liquor."

"Finally, someone who understands. People think I'm just a softie for not drinking something 'serious'."

"Me too." Dave agreed.

He and Valerie were drinking coffee, seated at his round table in the suite. He had gone up to her room earlier and had flustered through an invitation to come chat with him. Apparently, he hadn't made too big an idiot of himself since she had answered with a clichéd 'sure, why not'.

He was discretely ecstatic that she came along, and even more so that his more…imposing charges weren't around to disturb. It was fantastic. Just a nice, quiet midmorning-

"Dave! Open the door!"

"What? Alvin?" Dave looked up at the door. "Just let yourself in."

"OPEN THE DOOR!"

Dave felt his recently acquired inner-peace evaporate as his heart-rate sped up. "Ugh. Only Alvin. Excuse me."

"No problem." Valerie answered. Dave nodded to that and got up before practically marching to the door and yanked it open.

"Alright, what's the matter with yo-…Alvin?!"

"No time!" His adopted son yelled. "Outta the way, and help me with her!" Alvin pushed past him and rested his chipette burden as gently as he could on his bed. Valerie and Dave watched wide-eyed before Alvin yelled at them to make themselves useful. "C'mon, help me! She's not waking up! I think that mugger knocked her unconscious!"

"Mugger? Um, I'll see if I can g-get some smelling salts." Dave figured in his haste to get away from his son's glare.

"I'll get some warm water to clean her up with and call the cops or something." Valerie shivered under the chipmunk's heated stare as well before leaving to do what she said, feeling severely unnerved.

As he watched them scurry away, he felt his frustration become replaced with anxiety and worry when he turned back to the chipette on his bed; completely motionless, save for her bosom that responded to her breathing. "Oh no, why'd this happen, I should have stayed beside her, should'a stayed beside her, shouldastayedbesideher…" His concern had inadvertently merged his words into one as he chanted in his guilt, nearly going out of his mind. "If only I had been beside her, this wouldn't have happened!"

He knelt beside the bed and stroked her forehead, gently removing her hair out of her face. While he was at it, he wiped off any grime on it and noted that her cheeks were tear stained, as well as what seemed to be a knife-cut on one of them. Right then and there, he promised himself that as soon as she woke up, he was going back out into the alleyway to break every part of the mugger he hadn't already.

Dave was back in another minute. "I got the salts."

"Finally!" Alvin exclaimed as he grabbed the capsule-like object from the man's grasp. "How do I use it to wake her up?"

The man ignored the impoliteness, knowing that this was a rather unfortunate situation. "Twist off the top part and squeeze the bottom part. Let the smell get into her nose."

"This won't hurt her, will it?"

"When she wakes up, she'll complain about the smell. That's it."

He did as he was told, and cradled her head in the crook of her arm to lift it. He then allowed the pungent aroma of the salts go directly up her nose, and just under a half-minute later, her eyelids fluttered, much to the red Seville's giddying relief. "Brittany? Are you okay?"

She coughed haggardly, and tried to lean up of her own volition. "W-what? Stinks...w-where am I...?"

"Oh! She's fine." Dave assured.

"She doesn't know! What if she has amnesia or something?!" Alvin yelled to his father, making the man slap his own forehead in exasperation.

"Alvin. She's fine, for the most part. Valerie's going to come any minute now with the water, the cops will come to get this all straightened out and we'll get her to the hospital. She's not going to die, she's only disoriented."

"Hmm…? Alvin?"

"Yeah?" He answered eagerly.

"I got mugged, didn't I?"

"Yeah."

She groaned as she felt the back of her head. "Ugh. My head hurts. It feels like I've got a headache the size of North America. But you came. You came...thank you, Alvin, thank you..."

Valerie came in through the door of the suite holding a basin of warm water and clean rags, and the last four of the sextet bustling in after her. "I'm back with the water, and Jeanette called the police. They should be over soon."

 **=X=X=**

"Sounds like quite the tale, son." The burly man remarked. He heard some incoming traffic on his walkie-talkie and listened to it privately. "Mm hmm. Yeah, I hear you…what?...That bad?..."

As the policeman listened to the person on the other end chatter away, Alvin finished removing all that was 'removable' from the pink chipette's person, much to her annoyance. She found it endearing the way he fussed over her though, although she wasn't ready to admit it.

"Alvin, you ran with her when you were already tired all the way to the hotel, didn't bother to look both ways to cross the street and up the stairs to this floor?"

"…I did." He said simply.

Simon shook his head. "Well, I'll never doubt your strength again."

"There was doubt?"

The policeman came back from the other room and addressed all. "Well, son. I can't say that there is all good news. None of it's bad, but none of it's good. Depends on how you take it."

"Wadd'ya mean?" Theodore asked the question on everyone's minds.

"There won't really be a case made of this. Too many muggings happen for this to really make much of a deal of. People are only taught to be wary, learn either how to run, learn some sort of defensive skill or get pepper spray for this sort of thing. Young Miller here had none of that, unfortunately."

"I suppose that's the bad news?" Dave queried. "That there won't be an arrest? Why not?"

"Nah. I didn't say that. I'm suggesting that you let the matter drop."

"What?!" The Sevilles and Millers yelled the question.

"Oh yeah. That's what I said. The criminal was nothing more than a druggie. Robbing common people to buy meth, coke, and whatnot. Poor bastard."

"Language around the kids," Dave frowned at the mild language. He was nearly mobbed by said 'kids' who claimed to have heard worse. "But still, why did you say 'poor'? He's needy?"

"There's that. But I mainly meant pity." The policeman stated. "My partner just had the guy looked over in the hospital. He can't really stiff out what it takes for a crime, along with what your son did to him."

Alvin glowered. "If he's not dead, then I didn't do enough." He said heatedly.

"Alvin, please don't speak like that." Dave pleaded. "I knew that these video games were a bad influence."

"It's not about the games!" The red chipmunk yelled. "He could have killed Brittany! She got cut, robbed, and knocked unconscious!"

Brittany embraced him in a tight hug. "It's fine." She cooed placatingly into his ear. "You got me back home safe."

He couldn't help but let a tear run from an eye unhindered. "I should have been there."

She grinned widely. "Heh. Slowpoke."

The policeman cleared his throat excessively to garner attention. "As I was saying, your son did a number on him. With what you said earlier? Some sort-a stick?"

"Mop stick. Felt really strong."

The policeman chuckled. "Must be one of those really strong pole-sticks from back in the day, none of this current China sh-…" He trailed off, minding his language. Clearing his throat again, he tried to get back to the point where he had derailed from. "As I was saying, the… _beating._ "

"I only roughed him up." Alvin protested. "If it were a beating, I would have used something **heavier**."

"Then…Alvin, isn't it? Alvin, I shiver to think of what you call a beating. The druggie had to get some impromptu X-rays so the doctors could get a better look at the damage. You did beat him until he fell unconscious, after all."

"Unconscious? X-Rays?!" The pink chipette boggled. 'How far did he go to save me? When he claimed he got angry over seeing me hurt? He beat him up so bad that he needed X-Rays so the doctors could see what's wrong?!'

"He's got a broken radius bone in his arm." The policeman counted off, pointing at the spot. "It's one of the double bones closer to the wrist. He also has a broken nose, fairly standard I might add, a broken kneecap, a bruised liver, three broken ribs and one more cracked. As for his _skull_ , he's got two cracks in it; one's a line crack and the other one a spider-web crack on his forehead 'cause his head got dented in. To top it all off, he's got an extremely severe concussion. His left lung came close to being punctured by one of the broken ribs that started pointing inwards. The doctors are even considering putting him in an induced coma because it'll actually be cheaper than anaesthesia for his head damage."

Everyone's eyes had widened save for Alvin's as the man listed the ailments. When there was a pause, the chipmunk shocked all when he remarked with a 'that's it?' very nonchalantly.

After a few minutes of heated words slung across the room, the policeman placed two fingers under his tongue and whistled shrilly to get all to stop. "All right, that's enough. I can understand that you were trying to avenge her and all, 'protecting' her, but don't let this happen again. You should be grateful that this is all being kept hush-hush."

"'Hush-hush?'"

"That's right, Mr. Seville. It's not 'cause your son's famous, it's because our criminal 'learnt' his lesson. He got a beating about the legs, chest and head when all he really did was take twenty dollars and a cell phone. He's got some medical bills staring him in the eyeball, and all he has to his name is a stinking, half-burnt out tiny apartment, a drug problem and a birth certificate to say that he exists."

"You're saying that I shouldn't press charges because he has next to nothing and is in a lot of pain?" Dave asked, confused and slightly hot under the collar.

"Not just that. He might find some way to say that your son's 'Jungle Justice' went too far to incapacitate him, then sue for health restitution. Don't you have an image to keep up? 'Teen musical artiste beats mugger half to death in a fit of rage'. No matter how noble it sounds, some elements of the media will tear you to shreds, ignoring the fact that you were trying to save the girl. They could say that you're unstable, might be singing questionable lyrics, things like that. Just let it be. If you have to say something, make it PG-13, if you know what I mean. No big details."

"He wanted to kidnap me!" Brittany had to suppress a shiver. "He recognized me, and tried to drag me off with him…!"

Alvin growled audibly. "Which hospital is he in?!"

"Don't go doing anything stupid, Alvin." Dave warned. "The policeman is simply saying that you could get arrested for taking the law into your own hands, not to mention slandering everyone here with bad images, as well as being sued. Can't you think of the others? They'll suffer if you keep up with this!"

Alvin wouldn't hear anything of it. He threw his hands up in the air in exasperation, and stomped off. On his way out of the suite, he slammed the door so hard that Dave worried that it may have been damaged.

"He's a real hot-head, isn't he?" The lawman remarked.

"Not really," Simon answered. "Impulsive? Sure. But I still can't believe that he beat a mugger half to death with a mop-stick."

"I c-can't believe it either," Theodore agreed in a rather tearful tone. "He's not a bad person. He's not going to jail, is he?"

"If he goes to the hospital, finds the mugger and finishes the job, he will, Theodore." Eleanor said grimly. It was meant as a joke, but came off as fairly distasteful.

"I'm going to talk to him." Brittany announced suddenly. She quickly bounded to the door and was after her counterpart as best she could. She ignored the calls of her to 'take it easy', and did the exact opposite, keen to find Alvin.

"If I were to go kill a defenseless man, I'd go to the hospital with a weapon. If I were to cool off, I'd go to the roof." She wondered out loud. She was soon on the elevator and punching the button for the roof, watching the dials indicate that she was on her way there.

 **=X=X=**

The hotel had a rather impressive rooftop garden, but Alvin paid it no mind. Frankly, he was only happy that no one was on the roof at this time. He could feel himself seethe with anger and knew that he'd better assuage it or-

"Keep it together, Alvin." He muttered to himself. "I…I need to…um…breathe deeply or something."

Failure.

"Damn it!" He kicked over one of the lawn chairs placed for seating in his frustration. "They better arrest him, 'cause if he's not protected by those iron bars, so help me, I'm going to-"

"Alvin?"

"!" He savagely turned as he heard the soft voice call his name. He could already feel his blood pressure drop when he saw her approach him. This was ridiculous. How much control did she have over him? He'd better shape up, or he would start losing face and influence. At least he accomplished the first by picking up the fallen chair by the back and sat in it casually, as if he wasn't having some emotional episode a minute before. "Yeah?"

"How are you?"

"Fine." He grunted. He braced his head in the palms of his hands as he supported his arms on his lap. "You?"

"Could be better." She admitted. "My head still hurts."

"Oh? Sorry about that."

"You didn't do anything wrong, 'kay? Besides, you got me home after all that…rage thing you did, going ballistic on that creep."

"Maybe the others are right and I shouldn't have gone so far to beat him. I mean, one to his knee was fine, but I went too far. What if I had killed him? I could have gone to prison, there was nothing about self defense about it. It's like I attacked him." He stated simply, as if making a normal comment.

"So you're saying that you shouldn't have saved me?"

"No! I didn't sat that!" He protested. "I just…have a lot on my mind."

"Am I that much?" She grinned wryly.

"Just get out of here, Brittany!" He yelled at the top of his lungs. He felt something stir inside him, but knew not what. He certainly didn't like the feeling, and the look on her face even less. "You're making things too damn complicated! My younger brothers had been bullied, I fought the bullies too, won and lost, but I had to help them too! I didn't do anything special for you, alright?!"

She was taken aback that he had raised his voice at her, or even that he had actually said 'damn'; never mind that she had been saying it for a lot longer than he had. He had always been the one to say that he had an image to keep up, but she didn't fret all that much for her speech. Or it could have been the fact that he still had Dave to curb his language while she had no one at present. "I'm not making things complicated! All I'm saying is that I don't care that you think you went too far! I'm just saying 'thanks'! Thank you, alright! Thanks."

"I…don't…care!" He yelled each as its own syllable. "Just leave me alone! I came up here for some peace and quiet, and I can't even get that!"

"You're the one who started yelling…" She said matter-of-factly.

"Just…go…" He waved his hand at her, as if she were nothing more than an annoying insect. "Just leave me alone…please?" He felt his entire psyche, his mentality, all of his being beg for her to stay, but his mouth kept saying the opposite. As she turned and walked slowly away, he felt his core break infinitesimally while tears welled up in his eyes. But he wouldn't let anyone see them; he angrily swiped them away as the beat came back in his head, haunting him as he himself hummed it against his own will.

"Mmhm mm hm hmhmm hm hmm…"

"Hmm mm hmm hmm, hmm mm hmm hmm…"

'Why won't this tune leave me alone? What is it?'

 **I know what it is, but you'll find out later. I was actually going to let you know the first part of the chorus, but I said 'nah'! Anyway, that's it. Over the course of these three chapters, we've had some Theonor development (actually, it was more like singular character development, rather than for the/a relationship. It feels like Theonor's going to be the hardest.), more of an insight of what Alvin is capable of (parkour) and to show that he has a potential for violence where Brittany's safety is concerned. It's also obvious that he has feelings for her, but is not coming to terms with it; in fact, refuses to. Also, apparently he's still** _ **very**_ **impulsive.**

 **You can also see that I can get graphic with fighting. If this weren't T-rated...oh boy, it'd be bloody.**

 **12.6 k. Mm hmm. Yeah. Tell me what you think, if you have the need to comment, chastise me for even using a censored version of the word 'f**k', or to tell me that I suck, to stop writing garbage and I should kill myself. But I won't. You'll know when you see me in another fortnight.**

 **Hmm...you know, if you state the Author's note out loud, it sounds like it's rhyming. Cool.**

 **Valete omnes,**

 **MRAY 4TW.**


	10. Chapter 10

**AATC: Territory**

 **Hello everyone, and welcome to the tenth chapter. It's been fun, and still is. I, currently, am going through a couple of 'issues' (as do everyone else at some point) but I'll be back in around thirty days…you know what, just wait for an email that tells you that this was updated. It'll be part of another UNIVERSAL update.**

 **This is more of a transition chapter for them, so…yeah. Let's get right to it. It's just one this week…sorry. I'm just saying, so you don't wait around looking for a follow-up.**

 **10.**

"What if he turns out like your sister last year?"

"I don't think that'll ever happen. He's too boisterous."

"Jeanette…he's been silent for two days, and has been ever since he stormed out of the room. And then Brittany claimed to have spoken with him, but won't give details. I have a right to be worried."

"He just needs some time to himself. Maybe the whole situation will smooth over." Jeanette answered her companion. Simon, on the other hand, still felt put off by the whole situation. "It's not catatonia; he just looks as if he's just thinking a lot." She saw Simon about to speak up about what she said, and she shut it down quickly. "Simon, please. Just…don't say that him thinking is bad for his health."

"Aw, you know me too well. But sure, I can understand why he would and could be lost in thought, but not for so long. And why's Brittany quiet about it? Can't you ask her? She's bound to talk to you." Simon took off his seatbelt as the plane settled into its flight, now that the takeoff had been accomplished.

First Class, while suitable for people of their social caliber, wasn't expected of their…penthouse popularity, not to mention what people believed that they earned. They were humble in their purchases; First Class on a fairly commercial flight was just right. And by some weird miracle, Simon and Jeanette had gotten seats next to each other, as well as their younger siblings. Alvin had gotten a window seat and sat beside Valerie who chanced along at Dave's suggestion and invitation, and Brittany and Dave sat together five or six rows ahead of him. They had already gone through the Fan craze that was the boarding of all the passengers who saw them, and mobbed them before they were told to seat themselves and buckle in for takeoff.

Alvin, like the others had entertained them with cheery countenance, but his and Brittany's were false. All privy to the five others who were related to them could see that clearly, and worried for them. Dave, on a whole, had been eager to get out of Richmond to help ease them out of that setting which could hold reminders. Perhaps it was too early to judge whether or not if it worked; they were still in the state, but rapidly ascending miles above it to travel to the next State.

That concert wasn't for nearly two weeks in all actuality, But Dave's blundering through excuses why they didn't make the concert in Jersey during this week as planned, and _then_ fly to Florida. Eventually, they all left it alone. Truth was, the man would have preferred to go to New Jersey than Florida, but that concert in Miami was too exclusive, and far too important to just say 'It's a shame we won't be performing.' Not to mention that several political and musical aristocrats would be there. If it were cancelled, 'C and C' would be tarnished, and Dave himself to be as credible as a finicky toddler.

Not in this lifetime.

Stares occurred, glances happened, and darting eye movements were all over as all eight travelers sought to look at each other every now and again. To be honest, it bugged Valerie the most, and she barely knew why. Well, she knew something must've happened between Alvin and Brittany, what with the way they were carrying on, but apart from that, she knew as much as everyone else.

Nothing.

She had had her novel handy, and her phone's music player already tuned to her favorite playlist. She was about to hit play, when she heard some kind of music. Listening more closely, she realized that it wasn't a fault in her music player, but in fact humming. She glanced around in an effort to find the source, but her eyes snapped to look at Alvin as he seemed to tug on a lock of his hair that protruded from under the shade of his cap.

"Which song is that?" He muttered. He then began again, and Valerie listened to him, only to stare at him seemingly frustrated with himself. "I must be losing my mind."

"Well, talking to yourself is a good first sign." The technician voiced. "But if you're not crazy, you're not too far." She waited for his response, but instead, he huffed and went back to staring through the window. And she waited for perhaps a few more minutes before she spoke again. "I'm like a complete stranger. You can tell me, and it won't benefit me. What's bothering you, huh?"

"Why would you care?"

"Well, if you carry your bad mood on stage, you're going to let a lot of people lose their jobs, like me for instance. Then charities depending on you for donations get disappointment. Continuing that worse-case scenario, people go hungry, children go unloved, and the people the charities support will start to think that no one cares."

"I just go up there and sing." He said shortly. "Who cares if I smile or not? Why _would_ I smile after what's happened?"

"It's your job, now, is it? I thought all of you did this because it's your passion. And a lot of people care if you're smiling. 'Cause if you don't, paparazzi start digging around, then some reporters, then private investigators, and then rumors, news leaks, and forums will start thinking you're depressed or something," she rattled off quickly. She looked down at him create a smile, but it never came close to touching his eyes. "That fake one is going to scare little children, I'm sure."

"You're like Simon."

"Nope. I ain't that smart. But I've been told that I'm an over-thinker, and it makes me a bit of a perfectionist, sometimes." She answered simply. "Now what's up, huh? You can just tell me that you don't want to tell me, and I'll leave you alone. But you should know, Brittany and I switched seats. Are you sure you'd want me to switch back?"

"No! Wait…switch? You could switch?"

"I'm here, aren't I? Don't you think it's weird for everyone else to sit together? Dave arranged it, but Brittany freaked a bit when she saw that she was to sit next to you. He did that so everyone could relate to each other by conversing. Like Jeanette couldn't really talk to Theodore about science, or Eleanor trying to tell Brittany recipes. Dave and me would've probably talked about set-ups and so on, I believe. If no one sat together, you'd all be humbugged by a fan next to you, or someone unreasonable."

"I…uh...don't switch." He said the last more timidly. "I…I got a lot on my mind, that's all. Maybe by the end of the day, it'll be fine." He grunted as he felt his forehead. "And this headache I've had for the past two days."

"Painkillers?"

"Don't work."

"That means that _you_ are the cause of it. I've read of that when I got bored one day and read up on Horoscopes and Mysticism."

He stared at her blankly. "You're…what's the word...?"

"Eccentric and unique." She offered. "Point is, from all that you've said, you're over-thinking something that happened between you and Brittany, and it keeps circulating about that song you were just stressing over. Am I right?" She asked in trepidation.

"Yep." He turned back to the window. "Drama…" He said in singsong.

"Yeah…I'm getting Brittany." She said firmly. "Then the two of you can hash it out until you resolve this."

"No!" He exclaimed in a hushed voice to keep discretement. "Err…fine, I'll tell you. But this stays between us."

"A secret? Meh, fine. But just this once."

"…" He hesitated as he stared through the window for another moment, before turning back to Valerie. "People have always thought that Brittany and I would be a couple. And…well, I don't know how to feel about that. Good friends, sure. But a couple…I dunno. But for a long time, people have dropped hints that I like her more than just friends, and I'm wondering if they were right. Not that I'd want them to be."

"Well…you did beat a guy half to death over her in anger." She said in deadpan.

"That's just it!" He hissed in a whisper. "It's like I lost control of myself! And it's not just that, I mean, why would I be so eager to please _her_ , huh? Me, of all people. People tell me that my ego is as big as a mountain-"

"Several mountains." She interrupted.

He sighed deeply as he turned away. "She said that too."

"Great minds think alike." She said offhandedly. "But basically, you're confused as to how you feel about Brittany, and-"

"It's not just that…" The red Seville interrupted. "She even went as far to say that if anyone were to be with me that they'll be sorry for being with a wimp. She doesn't care for me like that. Why should I…?"

"She's gotta be joshing you. To nearly kill someone with brutish strength and then carry her from that distance while running; you must be in horrible shape," Valerie laced her statement with sarcasm.

Alvin stroked his forehead lightly. "It just got worse. Somehow, for some reason, my headache got worse. What am I supposed to do, huh? Hmm…you know what? Never mind. Girls are too confusing."

"Yup." The redhead answered with a nod. "We are convoluted and intricate beings, and we lack the straightforwardness of men. While men answer 'yes' or 'no', girls answer with 'maybe', 'almost', 'probably', 'sometimes', and the popular 'kinda, I dunno, could be'. While males have pockets for money, kerchiefs and phones, females carry half their houses in handbags. While males can get ready to go somewhere in five minutes, girls take at least twenty. Basically, the two genders are trying to get to the same place on a hill. For some reason, guys are coasting down to it, while girls are pedaling like crazy to get there."

"I understand…completely." Alvin finished the last after a pregnant pause. "Girls _are_ crazy."

"And guys are blunt." Valerie said simply. "And sometimes say things that they don't mean. It's not your fault though, its just-"

Alvin grabbed the woman's arm. "Oh my God…"

"What?" She asked curiously. "What now, oh great befuddlement of the Seville Chipmunk wonder?"

"You just said that 'it's not your fault'." Alvin responded with a blank look.

"Heh heh. I said that it's _your_ fault, not mine, little man."

He ignored her and felt his pockets, trying to find his cell-phone. However, he didn't find it, and started worrying over the woman next to him. "I need a cell, laptop, something! Connect to the plane's Wi-Fi, data plan, help me!" He scream-whispered. Eyeing her phone, he lunged for it, but she quickly held it out of his reach. "Please!"

"Nuh uh. Why do you want it?"

"Please! I just found out what I think is an important part of the song I was humming! It's been like, ugh! It's haunted me this whole time! Just search for that online, or something!" He started humming it again, but in every other line, he spoke the words 'It's not your fault' to the same tune. "Get it?"

"Yeah. I take back what I said. It's actually the boys who're crazy." She said matter-of-factly. Alvin pleaded for another minute, creating a scene in that little area. When the others of their travelling group started staring at them, he didn't relent, and it was beginning to shame her. "Alright! Fine!"

She gave him the phone, and he took it from her with a hasty 'thanks'. Without missing a beat, he connected to the plane's Wi-Fi and began searching for the tags he just found out. He instantly began getting a lot of trafficked information in the search results, and it all came back to a song titled 'Not Your Fault' by AWOLnation.

She looked over his shoulder and saw the search results. "'AWOLnation'? I love their songs. A bit puzzling sometimes, but why did you want to find this? How would you even know the tune?"

"I must've heard the song once a long time ago. I've a good memory for remembering tunes or beats, or something like that." He figured as he found a good quality track of it. He was about to put on her headphones, when she snatched one of the plugs.

"I wanna hear it too. Just take the other one."

They, by now, just had one in each ear as to how people typically shared headphones next to each other in alternate ears, and Alvin pressed play.

AWOLnation:

She was built with a brain and some swagger.

A little scream, a little cry, little laughter.

She's a ten, I'm a joke in my own mind.

But she still loves to dance to my punch-lines

…

This love found us,

Now I see it.

This love, up down,

Please believe.

…

Baby, when I'm yelling at you~

It's not your fault, it's not your fault, yeah.

Baby, 'cause I'm crazy for you~

It's not your fault, it's not your fault, yeah.

Maybe I'm a little confused~

It's not your fault, it's not your fault, yeah.

Baby, it's some wonderful news~

It's not your fault, it's not your fault, yeah.

Oh~, it's not that you should care, I just wanted you to know.

…

After that, Valerie heard an abrupt stop and turned to Alvin to see what was wrong. Instead, she saw that **he** was the cause of the problem. He had yanked out the jack to the cable, as well as to leave the site with the music.

"I've heard enough. Thanks." He grunted. He turned back to the window and started staring through it deeply. "Not your fault, huh? But the song bothered me before that time. Was it because of when she warned me?" He muttered.

"Well," Valerie sighed. "Your little song just told you that you're 'crazy for her'. What do you intend to do, huh? You going to tell her, Romeo?"

"I...can't. She must hate me. You even said that _she_ wanted the switch." Alvin replied sternly. "I'll just let it be, and what we just talked about… _every part_ of it…" he trailed off in all seriousness. "Never happened, and no one else will know. It stays between _us_."

"Geez." She rolled her eyes. "Whatever. I promise I won't tell. Do you want me to pinkie-promise too?"

"No. But if you could cut your palm, and I cut mine, and then we shake on it."

"What world do you live in?" She asked in incredulity.

"...I saw it in a movie once."

"…"

"Well?"

"…I'm not doing that. Just take a promise like regular people."

He didn't respond straightaway, but he did after five minutes. "'Wonderful news', huh? My life's over. I am **not** in love with Brittany Miller."

"Did you happen to know that today's 'Opposite Day'?"

"Ha ha." He said in monotone. "Currently, we're just friends, and I'm going through a rough patch, and…"

The woman became stone-faced when she heard that. "You? A 'rough-patch'?" She pinched him as hard as she could, and he had to stifle acting up. "You have no idea what she's going through, do you? You're always running away to mope about your little 'rough-patch', and you don't even know what's going on with her."

"What? What's wrong? I didn't do anything-"

"Did you yell at her?"

"Yeah…a couple of times." He admitted. "But how'd you know-"

"Know? Your little song, 'baby when I'm yelling at you'," she spat. "She looks like she's been losing sleep, and according to Dave, he suspects that she's crying herself to sleep at night. Did you cause that?!" She whispered fiercely.

"What? No! At least, I don't think so. I never said anything hurtful. I just told her to leave me alone. I'm the victim here."

"Sure you are," the sarcastic comment had been thoroughly implied, and as such, Alvin began to fret a bit.

"She looked like she lost sleep before that. It couldn't have been me. Unless-…oh no." He realized. "She's grieving again."

"Grief? For who?"

"Ms. Miller."

"If it were only that, it wouldn't be a problem. But every time that you **are** around, she glances at you as if she's trying to figure you out, and then you glare at her. I'm sure that you're only sending out the right signals."

"Alright, easy on the sarcasm. You're starting to sound like Simon. And I don't glare."

"Good. At least he's smarter, and he hasn't been an ass to _his_ friend." She said straight-arrow. She held off, however, when Alvin slapped his own forehead and he looked regretful.

"I'll apologize, okay? I'll make it up to her, and we'll sort it out. Just like last year when this happened for the first time." He answered unsurely. "Now leave me alone, okay? I've got a lot on my mind."

"Fine." Valerie took up her novel, and started reading. "So long as you're starting to deal with your problems and stop taking it out on the girl you're most likely to be in love with, it's alright by me." Right away, she saw that he was about to tell her off, she plugged in her earphones and turned up the volume. 'Ah. Now to begin that book. It was the best of times, it was the worst of times…'

Getting frustrated with his closed-up companion who was obviously ignoring him, Alvin turned back to the window, trying to distract himself with the sights of the country below him. It was a monotony of grays of steel and concrete, dotted by the blues of pools and the assorted greens of grasses. 'Me? I don't love Brittany. We…we're friends.'

His headache which had been lowering in intensity returned in full force in a pulse as a tsunami-like myriad of memories coursed through his mind. As he had expected, it consisted of all of those he had spent with, around, or centered around the chipette. He tried to fight it back and was only mildly successful.

'…I must be losing my mind…'

 **=X=X=**

He easily picked up his red suitcase by the handle in his left hand from off of the conveyor belt. By now, he could see that the others were doing so as well; their suitcases were corresponding colour and first initial emblazoned on both sides. They were all lined up to collect their luggage, and it was only Brittany's that was yet to come out.

Dave was surprisingly mellow; in fact, they all were. No sense of urgency, sure, but it was surprisingly quiet among them, while the entire airport droned with the din of chatter, and the takeoffs and landings of aircraft.

Then Brittany's suitcase came out, and Dave and Valerie allowed it to pass them to get to her. She was fourth in place after Eleanor, and the blonde nudged her to ensure that she was aware of it. There was no need for that, as Brittany grasped at the suitcase handle.

And she lost her grip.

It was amusing to watch as the suitcase 'sped' along at a fairly slow speed, and she jostled around the others to get to it. Their hands were full with their own suitcases, and she was still the only one to get hers, so she was fully expected to get it herself.

It passed her, then Jeanette, Theodore who actually tried to stop it but failed ultimately, then Simon.

It was nearly at Alvin's place and when she herself noticed that fact, she made an obvious hesitate in her locomotion to get to her suitcase. She tried to avoid eye-contact with him as she tried to get to the luggage, but for the briefest instant, their eyes held each other. One set was a cerulean blue that spoke tales of the mighty and imposing sea; and the other, a stark pair of arctic ice that possessed numerous sonnets of labyrinthian emotions.

And then the moment passed.

She was now at his side, and still missed the case. Noting that fact, he absently reached out with his right hand and took up the suitcase, and yanked it off the conveyor belt. He sidestepped a bit out of the way and held it out to her; the palm holding the grip nearly lax and relaxed to show that the case was far from strenuous to him.

"Here you go, Brittany," he muttered.

She blinked stupidly, before deciding to take the offensive. "I didn't ask for your help. I don't want it."

He allowed her to take (grabbed) it from him, and he sighed deeply when it slipped from her grip. Presently, he recalled that it was in fact his adoptive father who had carried it for her in the beginning, and apparently, he (Alvin) really was stronger than he must've looked. Simon was right about his physicality.

As the suitcase clattered unto the floor, he took it back up easily. "Well, it's obvious that you don't want it. In fact, you need it." He spoke in a near deadpan. She was nearly going to fight him for it when she saw that the others were walking now to the exit, and leaving her and Alvin still standing. As Valerie passed them, the pink chipette caught a hint from the redhead's shake from her head; to 'let it be'.

She gave a long exhale, but remained cautious. "Fine. T…thanks anyhow."

"You're welcome." He hefted both suitcases now but it didn't bother him; after so long of making his whole body what it was now, he felt able enough to toss the cases a good distance. He was certainly capable of simply carrying them. "So…how've you been?"

"Fine." She answered shortly.

"Sure?"

"Sure."

"You don't sound too sure." The red Seville hazarded, and as he expected, she lost her patience.

"I'm fine! Alright?!" She yelled. She was pulling attention now from most now, and certainly from the others in their group turned to stare at them, as if asking 'what's the drama now between you two?'.

Alvin had the nerve to grin at her. "And that's the kind of behavior that says that you're not."

Her face fell and her chin slightly dropped. He had turned her very words back on her, and it was he who had made her excessively emotional. It was a vast change from her being superior to being inferior to Alvin in being stoic and calm. To ALVIN, of all people.

She gave a wry smile. A very small one, but a smile none the less.

"Well played, Seville. Well played."

"Ah well. You learn more from mistakes than from winning all the time." His grin grew wider, before he frowned as they started walking again to catch up to the departing others. "Sorry about yelling at you."

"What? Sorry?" She asked, confused. "I thought you were angry at me for…being me, I guess."

"Nah." He would have literally waved it off as if he didn't care, but his hands were full. He actually passed the left suitcase so both handles sat in his right, before doing so, making her stare at him in disbelief as he did. "What?"

She shook her head. "Err…sorry for calling you a wimp. You're definitely **not** a wimp." She risked a playful fist-bump on his shoulder while stating her speech.

"Gee, thanks." He mumbled sarcastically. "But you are fine, aren't you?"

"Meh…could be better," she admitted. They, by now had reached up to the others at the exit. "But nothing I can't handle."

 **Well, yeah. That's it. I figured I might as well leave the fic open on a better note than an angst one from last time. It can be argued that I shouldn't have made them reconcile so soon as it makes the story too idealistic and 'mushy', but it's not really. I don't have much planned for the plot for that kind of teen drama; it's mostly for the adventure/hardships parts and such. Romance was to be developing on the sides, and finalized by the end.**

 **What did you guys think of the song? I found it very apt for what happened to them. As for AWOL's themes, I suspect it to be 'unsettling' at times in their second verses. Other people just call it deep, but uh, opinions-opinions.**

 **Nailed it…I made no spoilers.**

 **Also, as you can see, Valerie is going to be an important OC, so no wishing for her to leave. Anyway, thanks for reading, and don't forget to review and such; it'll make my day…or night as it usually is.**

 **Valete omnes,**

 **MRAY 4TW.**


	11. Chapter 11

**AATC: Territory**

 **I'm back y'all. UNIVERSAL Update is in full swing, and thanks for waiting patiently and…and…aw, get to readin', don't let me delay you! However, a word of warning: I don't live in Miami. 'Nuff said.**

 **11.**

"They look better, right Theo?"

"Yeah." Theodore glanced over at the pair who seemed to have been texting one another…while they were in the same room. Was what they were conversing about that private enough that they couldn't speak it out loud? Or was it just done as a joke? After knowing his brother for all his life, and Brittany for the latter half, it was probably the second implication. If they wanted privacy, they could have went somewhere private to talk. But what would and could be so private in the first place? All he knew was that they were friends most of the time, very close for a day or two, and then at each other's throats for the time remainder.

They were completely unpredictable. Why couldn't they be like Simon and Jeanette? They were practically inseparable, or perhaps be like him and Eleanor-

He froze as his mind became insensible as to that line of thought. 'What am I and Eleanor like? We're…friends? No…we're best friends. Yeah…?'

Then why did he have the persisting feeling that that wasn't enough for him? What more could he want than to be best friends with…well, his best friend? He knew the answer though…he knew.

"Alright, guys." Dave plucked the underside of his tongue and whistled shrilly. "Time for bed."

"Does that mean me too, David?" Valerie asked.

"Yes," he deadpanned. "And it's midnight. You should, uh, go to your room. I don't want to carry you there if you fall asleep here." 'Well…maybe I would. Maybe!' He yelled the last in his thoughts vehemently.

"We all napped on the plane, Dave." Brittany offered, barely looking up from her texting. _'Are you sleepy?'_ She typed with deft fingers before hitting 'send'.

"Guys don't nap," Alvin butted in with his answer. He then read the text and decided to be honest. _'Yes. Are you?'_

"Yes they do. I've seen all of you nap at some point or another." _'No.'_

"I prefer the term 'rejuvenating power-break'," Simon muttered. "The word 'nap' sounds crude and infantile."

"I know I nap." Theodore offered. "Am I…infantile?"

"No you're not," Eleanor cooed lightly. She then palmed some of the candy-popcorn in his bowl and ate it with a smirk. "Like taking candy from a baby," she joked with a playful wink.

"Hey!" Theodore squealed in a puerile manner.

"Alright. Everyone get to bed. Now, I'm telling you."

"And for once, I'm going to listen." Alvin groaned. "My head's killing me."

Brittany typed again when she heard this. _'Tough. Take any pills?'_

He was tempted to tell her that his headache seemed to center on her 'relationship' to and with him, but decided not to. _'They don't work. L8r.'_

' _L8r.'_ 'That feels…sudden and abrupt. Is he upset with me? Must be the headache…'

 **=X=X=**

The svelte form of the person treaded in a most lithe fashion, almost like a cat. It was a bit forced, but it wasn't the first time they had to move like this.

Not when there was a possibility that someone was awake, and could be observing their rather…suspicious movement.

If that witness variable knew the intended activity they weren't meant to witness, it would be considered even more dubious.

But there was nothing to see, as no one was _seeing_. The cameras here and there were also playing a looped footage of empty hallways in the guard's office, courtesy of a small recorded-media hack from a job at an earlier juncture.

The hallways were dimly lit to give the impression that it was 'lights-out', and that everyone should be in bed. Anyone could be awake, hence the slinking about on the balls of feet for dead-silence and below the peek-holes of the doors to evade sight. Finally, after what was an eternity, the barricade keeping the person from their goal was reached, and without preamble, pulled out a screwdriver, and worked rapidly to remove the faceplate for the card reader on the door to be able to bypass the lock.

After three minutes and the end of their work, the card reader was a bit more than a frame with wires with open tumbling locks inside, and the door was ajar. Nothing left to stop them; they eased the door open and made a beeline for the supposed bedroom.

Upon entry, they took note of the three beds and their occupants; three chipettes. Two were sound asleep, but the one on the far left closest to the intruder themselves tossed and turned in a fit to get to sleep; the obvious signs of whimpering and sorrowful vibes permeated the visible head unhidden by the bedsheets like a woeful halo.

The stranger approached her and felt the chipette's forehead with their exposed wrist. It felt warm, and almost as if she was feverish.

"Too easy," the person muttered as they removed a fifty-milliliter syringe fitted with a hypodermic needle from the small pocket on their tool-bag.

Whatever fragile plane of consciousness the chipette resided on was shattered like broken glass as her eyes exploded open to see a masked person tower over them with a needle in hand, appearing like a psychotic doctor. Her first and foremost instinct to scream was initiated as she leaned up in a jolt, but it was muffled with an adequate time as the offender clapped their free hand over her mouth. It was sufficiently muffled, as the gloves were heavily furred, and without any further delay that could risk exposure, the stranger wrenched the chipette's head to the side to expose a carotid artery. With the utmost of the definition of dexterity, the needle was injected there without any procedure of pre-sanitation of the neck, and the pale-fluids injected directly into her bloodstream.

The ongoing but extremely stifled screaming of the chipette died down decidedly and soon her eyelids draped down to conceal her ice-blue orbs. Her body which had been fully taut in her panic became completely relaxed as she went limp. The offender then grunted once in satisfaction before pondering their next step.

 **=X=X=**

"Where is she?" Eleanor worried. "Even her phone's on the nightstand. She **never** leaves her phone behind if she goes somewhere. We can't call her to ask her where she is!"

"I'm sure she's fine," Jeanette placated in her most conciliating tone. "You're just being irrational because of your over-protective nature."

"So I can be over-protective sometimes. Big deal!" The younger fumed. "A fat lot o' good that's doing us, huh? She could have been kidnapped, for crying out loud!"

If only she knew…

The front door opened to let in someone, and both chipettes were pleasantly surprised to see Brittany come in, fretting about here and there about her phone.

…How wrong she was.

"Brittany?!" Eleanor yelped. "Where've you been?"

"Huh?" She scratched her hairline at her forehead. "I was out for a walk around the hotel grounds. Don't worry though, I had Alvin close by." She smirked at this. "Keeps the baddies away."

"What?!" Eleanor had gone over next door earlier to ask the boys, but she couldn't believe that she had missed Alvin's presence as well. Perhaps Jeanette wouldn't have, but more to the point…Brittany was with Alvin?

She actually felt a bit jealous. Not of her for Alvin, but of their seemingly growing relationship.

'Ugh. It's like I want Theodore to dramatically save me or something. I ain't no damsel in distress.' She thought. "Oh well. But you two seem to be getting awfully chummy. You two are like a couple of light bulbs…'on' one minute, and 'off' the next. What's up with that?"

"What? No we don't." Brittany defended. Jeanette came to her rescue, but it wasn't in a way that any of them could have anticipated.

"Brittany's coquettish."

"And what does _that_ mean? Ugh! I'm getting kinda fed up of you and Simon using big and bizarre words. Why don't you two just go on to college? Damn," Brittany aggravated.

"It means that you only like to win the love and admiration of males, when you don't care for any romantically. Like dressing up just to get attention and for them to drool at the sight of you, just to make you feel…err… superior, I guess." The violet Miller explained.

Brittany's face fell. "What?" She croaked. "Superior?"

"That's what I said. I used _easier_ words." She said in a sarcastic, yet demure tone. It was as if the sarcasm was half-intentioned, but she was afraid that she would offend.

"You know, I think that describes Brittany perfectly," Eleanor observed. "Do you think she's leading Alvin on?"

The pink chipette regained her anchorage in reality. "No I haven't! We're just friends!"

"Just friends?"

"Friends." She affirmed in her most serious voice. "Now what are we doing for the day?"

Jeanette narrowed her eyes at this; she didn't quite believe her, but wasn't willing to delve further into the matter. If she did, it might be her own Inquiry to her relationship with Simon. Sure, they were friends, but she wanted more than that. But she was afraid of pressing the issue, mainly because of how…mild-mannered she actually was.

That and the fact that she didn't know how he felt about her. Even if she mustered up the strength and confidence to ask, only to be disappointed, it could damage the simple friendship they already had. It was like betting in blackjack. She already had a twenty, but wanted a twenty-one. The risks and odds for a card with a count of one to be perfect…were monumental and staggering.

"Well," she began. "Miami has a number of sites by which to engage in, varying by its diverse culture. This pertains to entertainment like theatric, cinematic, shopping-centric, assorted eateries that are influenced by Latin Americans, West Indians, Cubans and the like. There are also quite a few museums, zoos, amusement parks here and there-"

"Um, sorry Jeanette, but thanks for the lesson anyway." Eleanor crossed her sister's line of speech. She wasn't about to insult her sister, but the truth was that most of what she just said felt a bit pointless and went over her head completely. "But can you tell us where we're **currently** in, and what options we have?"

"We're in Downtown Miami; technically to the eastern side of the Downtown area."

"Downtown? Downtown of Downtown?" Brittany mumbled, now getting confused.

"Don't ask. We're actually in a really commercial and tourist friendly area. Basically, there's a lot to do."

The pink Miller normally would have suggested that they go shopping for chic outfits, but now what Jeanette had said describing her earlier suddenly made a lot of sense and it scared her. Was she that…obvious? No, that wasn't the word. Was her behavior that…two dimensional? Wearing what her character was all about on her sleeve? Was Jeanette right? Doing all that she did just to get that feeling of supremacy? Maybe this was of the time when she was younger. Or maybe it just wasn't as bad before. Well, it was bad before the accident, but not anymore.

The accident.

Will it ever leave her alone? As far as she knew, it had changed her, and she knew not if it was for the better or for worse. If she was 'bad' before and now that she had slowed down, did that mean she was 'better'? If she was 'good' before and now that she had slowed down, did that mean that she was 'terrible'?

Was she in all actuality, using him just to feel better about herself? If she did, why? Because she used to blame herself for not warning Ms. Miller in time to react for an imminent collision? Her self-worth had degenerated and she pushed everyone out of her life.

And then _he_ showed up.

He was always there. Ever since he showed up, she cried on his shoulder as he tried to comfort her, and she basically **used** him over time via snide remarks and forms of competition to feel better about herself, when he was always there **for** **her**. He didn't have to, but he always gave off the vibe that he was obligated to. Perhaps it was because of her emotional state, or because he felt it was the right thing to do.

Or that he _wanted_ to.

She felt horrible. And basically all the words that synonymous with the word 'guilt' that Jeanette could possibly spout off. Perhaps she really did make things complicated for Alvin. Not just what happened last time, pertaining to his violent reaction to seeing her being kidnapped, but that it had been building up over time and he lost his patience. She could prove nothing, for all she had were assumptions.

" _It means that you only like to win the love and admiration of males, when you don't care for any romantically…"_

'Why would Alvin care enough for me to go off like that? To first come to help me grieve? To basically let him waste his own summer stuck in a room with me when he didn't have to? To practically beat a guy half to death because he got angry at how I was being treated? Did I lead him on for him to act the way he does? Does he…love me?'

None too sure about that. And **love** was a rather strong word.

"Even if he does…how do _I_ feel about him?" She whispered. She suddenly heard snapping close to her ears, and came to, only to see Eleanor about to slap her in the face.

"Hey! Brittany! You awake?!"

She flinched. "Hell yeah! Why'd you think I wouldn't be?"

"You were like…frozen for five minutes." Eleanor said matter-of-factly. "And Jeanette and I can't agree on what to do. You're a tie breaker. If you say something else besides what each of us said, we're going to have to play rock-paper-scissors. First person to get two wins...well, they win."

"Um…you guys go on ahead. I'll just lie down or something." Brittany mumbled. "I'm not feeling well."

The youngest chipette raised an eyebrow at this but said nothing pertaining to her sister's answer in conflict. "Alright, then. Guess I'll go get some coffee. Maybe Theodore will want to tag along."

Jeanette shook her head with disdain. "*Sigh* Caffeine addict."

 **=X=X=**

"So that's what's going on so far, huh?" The man asked.

"' _Fraid so,"_ answered the voice on the other end.

"Damn, the news would eat this up, but they'd make him look like some kinda vigilante hero, beatin' up on so-called 'bad guys' over in Richmond," the man said with a snicker before his expression grew cold and heartless as he listened further to what the person was saying on the other end of the line. "WHAT?! They're here in MIAMI?!"

The other voice must have said something in the affirmative, which was precisely what the irate man did **not** want to hear. This was proven as Vincent dashed his phone against the far wall and it was smashed into pieces as shrapnel from the screen and plastic flew all over.

"What the hell are they doing, huh?! First they give me a shitty excuse for not going to Jersey, and then they come here to Miami?! Those rat-midget bastards and bitches!" He fumed. Lamar who was standing nearby, doing curls with a single, oversized-looking dumbbell while smoking a joint with his left hand. He pulled a toke on it before he left it in his mouth and pulled up his shirt to reveal to all his washboard stomach, but more importantly, his handgun that was held in place in his pants by the waistband. He then proceeded to pull it out while placing the dumbbell on the ground and un-cocked the pistol by pulling back on the chamber to disengage the safety.

Vincent nodded approvingly when he saw this, but he seemingly said something different. "Hold up, Lamar. We can't just up and shoot 'em just like that."

The man's voice seemed to have to fight its way to get out of his chest, but it came out like a rumble. "Worked on a few upstarts in the past who were trying to make a name for themselves right on our own doorstep."

"That's true," Vincent agreed. "But these damn singing chipmunk pests have their faces known everywhere now. We can't just have a straight up killing in some dark place, or people are going to start suspecting this as East-Coast singers going up against West-Coast, or as you might like to call it, me an' 'em at odds just because of popularity and-"

"Territory?" The big man asked.

"Yeah. Territory." Murray affirmed. "They had no right to step unto my own turf, and this is where I made myself from scratch with _you_ brother. If they don't know yet, we'll just help them along with a couple of lessons. If they don't learn, then we're going to hunt down the little singing f*ckers like the rats they are." He smirked grimly as he said this, and it was _easy_ to imagine anyone else being badly rattled at the sight of it; it reminded one of a snarling predator moments away from sinking its teeth or claws into helpless prey. "I got some classes to teach and they'd better learn, or at the end of it all, the only music they'll be good for are burial hymns."

 **=X=X= (One Day later)**

"Well, she said cuisine yesterday…"

"Yeah, I know what that word has to do with." Theodore remarked with a happy expression. "But Eleanor, I've been thinking about our friendship…" He trailed off dramatically, but it was inadvertent.

"What about it?" She asked abruptly.

"Nothing's wrong with it." He answered hastily. Why did he feel so nervous? He was fourteen! He needed a backbone, for crying out loud. "There's no problem with it. It's like this-." He gestured to his cup of decaf coffee. He had drunken some of it, but most of the heavily sweetened liquid remained inside.

"Your decaf?" She asked with a questioning stare. "My espresso tasted fine. Well, actually, it's the best I've ever had. I think they called it a _cortadito_."

They were now walking along on the sidewalk heading back to the hotel, disposable coffee cups in hand. It was eight in the morning, and they had made a brief coffee run together to the closest establishment that catered the product. None of them had hemmed or hawed about what they wanted to drink, (it was their second run to the selfsame coffee shop) and as such, Theodore had taken a mild cup of coffee, and his counterpart had gone fully 'traditional' in the art of strong coffee brewed on the spot.

What a shock.

"How is our friendship like a decaf?" She asked again.

"I…uh…" He hesitated with a dreadful twitch. "I w-want it to be more l-like y-y-your espresso." He said at last. This had been the closest he had ever come to such a confession, and this after around thirty-six hours of intense thought and pep-talks to himself when he believed himself to be alone. But at this current and present moment, it suddenly felt like a big mistake. What was he doing?!

She suddenly became perplexed as she stared at her half-depleted cup of the caffeine beverage. They were soon to the hotel entrance. "You…want it to be…stronger…? But we're best friends already, Theodore. Is that what you're saying?" This was…odd. "I don't think I understand-" She turned to him again, but this time, it was only to behold the sight of him suddenly tense completely, and clench his Styrofoam cup of coffee so tight that it squeezed the entire scalding contents up and out all over his hand.

"Grrrttthhh!"

"Theodore!" She cried aloud. "What's wrong?!"

He had no answer, except to stand completely rigid as all of his muscles locked up as well as his jaws, before toppling over like a piece of sheet-board. His body hadn't bent with the fall any, as he was completely unyielding as he fell flat on his back and head. Eleanor dashed her cup away to one side as she panicked and worried over him.

"Theodore! Oh my God!" She quickly knelt down and grabbed him by the shoulders as others of the multitude of passersby gave them a wide berth as some crowded around.

"Is he an epileptic?" One exclaimed. "He's starting to foam at the mouth!"

"Put a stick in his mouth! Don't let him bite his tongue off!" Another suggested before she shouted elsewhere for a doctor. None came, but fortunately, one person had the number for the local ambulance already dialed when they saw the chipmunk close by in his dejecting state.

"Damn it! I don't have my cell!" Eleanor vexed with flaring nostrils. She now fought with Theodore's convulsing body to pull out his own out of his hip pocket.

"I already called the ambulance," the original caller said. "All we can do is hope for the best. Look, he's calming down!"

She acknowledged that fact, but she still decided to call Dave. This…this just came entirely out of the blue. While the phone rang on the other end, Theodore's grip on his cup relaxed and released it and the now empty cup rolled on the ground until it bumped against someone's foot. It was a mere glance at it, but she observed writing on the bottom of the cup with what seemed to be from a black marker. She scowled as she read the two words, and fumed at the thought that someone had intended this, because she was sure as night followed day that Theodore did not have epilepsy.

 _Go home_

She picked it up and read the two words as her heart dropped. "W…wha?" Abruptly, the ringing phone was picked up from the other end.

" _Hello Theodore?"_ Dave answered. _"What's up-"_

"Dave!" She yelled at the top of her lungs into the phone. "I think Theodore's been poisoned!"

" _WHAT?!"_

 **This is short of around five hundred words, yes. But multiple updates and all, and I felt that to do a new scene would remove a lot from this development. Swing by in an hour. Or a day when you think that everything to be updated is done.**

 **Valete omnes,**

 **MRAY 4TW.**


	12. Chapter 12

**AATC: Territory**

 **12.**

"What?" Theodore asked, a bit unsure about what he meant.

"There's nothing. There's nothing!" Dave shouted. "There's nothing!" He glanced down at his recuperating son who was currently in a wheelchair, and it was only in the late afternoon/evening on the same day around nine or ten hours later. The physicians were sure that he would be able to leave the hospital under his own power. It was completely baffling, but somehow all they had was a halfway-plausible explanation.

"Well, the impromptu blood test came only an hour ago. It was -" Simon began to say, but he was cut off by his upset adoptive father who continued to fume.

"Not that! We can't press charges! There's nothing!"

"What do you mean?!" Eleanor could feel her own blood pressure spike. " **The damned cup** said 'Go Home'!"

"Someone's sending a message," Alvin growled. "My own brother! If I ever get my hands on the son-of-a-"

Brittany clapped her hand over his mouth just in time to censor the last. "Don't finish that."

He pulled her palm away from his mouth abruptly, but not in a manner that would actually hurt her; just in a way that would tell her that she shouldn't try to muffle him. "Which coffee shop, Theodore?! So help me, I'm gonna commit arson!"

Dave sighed, instead of trying to stop his headstrong son from his speech that was likely to get him into trouble. It was probably the angst of his own emotions that was causing it. "Theodore, for the last time-"

"He was wearing shades. It looked a bit lopsided, so I thought he was covering up a beaten eye that got swollen. His nose looked kinda flat too, like it was broken," Theodore insisted. "And he asked me if I wanted any of the condensed milk."

"It must've been in the condensed milk," Simon reasoned. "People normally went for cream if they're getting decaf, but being the nice guy that Theodore is, he took the condensed milk so he didn't offend."

"I…yes. And I always liked my decaf sweet." Theodore admitted. "But it did taste better with the condensed milk, though."

"What if you had drank all of your coffee, Theodore?" Eleanor fussed over him, as if trying to make sure that he really was alright. "It could've been worse, you know!"

All became silent for a full minute as everyone was locked in thought. Jeanette, however was the first to break it. "So let me get this straight. So this is the second time they're getting coffee. They hadn't even established a pattern, but Theodore got poisoned with a drug commonly known as 'fake-out' used by World War ll soldiers who would rather pretend death to themselves than risk capture like most of the desperate 'Allies' soldiers of the era. The enemy would think they had poisoned themselves, but in actuality had. It creates a drastic seizure effect for over stimulation of the nerves. A pity that the Axis soon caught on, and would...make sure they were dead." Jeanette added the last with a deep frown.

"Indubitably, it's probably a sort of a benzodiazepine," Simon agreed. "But the fact remained that the coffee shop's worker said that it was the first they have ever seen the person, who insisted that he was a new guy. They were eager to dole out their most despicable duty, which was to prepare and hand out the coffee during the morning rush as everyone wanted some variation of the beverage, all in haste. The condensed milk was suspiciously unavailable when a few previous people requested it, but was re-available when he offered it to the Theodore and Eleanor. She declined, even though he tried to sell her on the idea. That's all I have on theory, though."

"I'm glad I didn't." The blond chipette muttered.

"But Theodore accepted. He had only drank a quarter of his coffee, but collapsed on the way back to the hotel," Simon continued. "Meanwhile, the minute Theodore and Eleanor left, he claimed to have gotten badly burnt brewing more coffee, and went to get medical aid for such. He never came back."

"So a murderer could just waltz in, poison somebody and walk back out?!" Alvin grabbed Simon by the shoulder and began mildly throttling him there. "Are you kidding me?!"

Brittany lifted her arm like an upwards-chop that knocked Alvin's grip off of his brother. "Easy, easy. Don't take it out on him."

"Yeah, Alvin. I'm fine. Like Jeanette said. The drug's a fake poison, right?" Theodore protested. "But why would they write 'Go home' on the bottom of the cup? Or if that cup was meant for me in the first place with the poison already inside."

"A possibility. But the message is for us, or at least you," Jeanette insisted. "We got here within forty-eight hours, and a threatening message to leave. You got poisoned! And all the doctors are saying is that you need to eat a lot of garlic and oranges to purge the any possible toxins in your body!"

"Selenium." Simon jutted in. He had a brief thought about the message, and wondered if he should share it with his brothers. But then again, if he were right, then they were going to wish they had gone home. Dave had said that they were staying, already. "Theodore's already cleared for release, but I think we should let him stay in the hospital for even one more night."

Dave looked as if he was waging a war with himself. In fact, he was. To leave him in the hospital where they could care for him medically should he have another epileptic-esque scenario, or at the hotel with his family. With **him**.

"I'm as good with medical help as Alvin is at staying still." He said at last. "Let him stay in the hospital."

"Aw…" Theodore gave off the vibe of a little boy kicking a pebble in disappointment, and everyone felt it. "I heard that hospital food is terrible." He suddenly called to mind about what he was talking to Eleanor about earlier, and decided that if he stayed in the hospital, then another discussion pertaining to that was as good as postponed for another day; that was at the very least. "Alright."

"Eat the food they give you, Theodore," Dave said with a groan. "Hmph. I never thought I'd see the day that I'd have to tell Theodore to eat food. He's tolerant of _everything_."

"Considering what happened…" Alvin trailed off. "I think he'd better get his own food."

"We're hundreds of miles from home, Alvin. We're going to have to eat food we ourselves haven't prepared." Simon commented matter-of-factly. "If we're worried about getting poisoned, we'll have to eat food from a different place every time, or only once every four days. Less risks. At least until we find out who did this and see them imprisoned."

Dave fidgeted at this a bit. "Let's call it a day." He mumbled the last with a drawn out exhale, heavily hinting that he was feeling the stress of the situation; that was putting it placidly. "We should let Theodore rest up. We still…" He trailed off, realizing that if he mentioned that they need to practice for the concert in just under two weeks, then he would come off as callous to his own son's dilemma. "Never mind."

Regardless, they all spent another fifteen minutes in their assorted farewells and well-wishes, before Eleanor asked if she could stay. No one had noticed Theodore's previously lax attitude suddenly become taut, but relaxed again when the medical personnel for that floor all told her that she couldn't. She begrudgingly accepted the fact, but still had to be pulled out by Dave. She was adamant that she would be back first thing in the morning, and that did little to help Theodore sleep better that night.

 **=X=X=**

"What's bugging you, Ellie? You're still moping about the accident?"

"You're not?" The youngest Miller retorted in contempt. "Someone just up and poisoned Theodore, just like that. He's the sweetest and nicest guy I've ever known-" 'Hmm…that sounds a bit off…' She quickly amended her statement. "I mean, I would have expected someone to try and poison Alvin since he's so much like a loose cannon, or even Simon because-"

" _Because_?" Jeanette asked dangerously through clenched teeth, not to mention an intense glare that was coupled with a raised eyebrow. Eleanor was dauntless in this, and continued on her potentially destructive path nonetheless.

"Because he can get insulting sometimes with his sarcasm."

The violet chipette studied her sister carefully. "That's…true. Sometimes," she finished in defense. "But you're sounding kinda maternal. And you've always been overprotective of him."

"Me? Overprotective? Hah!" She spat. "What if Simon had gotten poisoned, huh? What would you have done?"

"Find a cure." Her sister answered simply. "Not like what you were doing like over-fluffing his pillows, tasting everything he was supposed to get, and even sampling his medicine. Or even-"

"I get it!" Eleanor plopped down on her bed. "It's just…Theodore wants something, 'kay? I don't know what!"

Brittany who had been listening the whole time spoke from where she lay under the covers of her own bed. "How'd you gather that?"

"We were walking from the coffee shop, out of the blue, he says that our relationship was like his decaf."

"Hmm…he said that he liked his decaf very sweet. Aw…" Brittany gushed. "That's…sweet?" She chuckled at her own joke. "Both of you always had the cutest thing going on, Ellie."

"What?!" Eleanor exclaimed. "We're best friends! What're you talking about?!"

"Sounding a bit defensive," Jeanette wagged a finger in a 'tsk tsk' motion. "You must have a sweet friendship, is what he meant, then."

The Miller on the spot was suddenly furiously thinking ahead. 'Why would he want it to be like my espresso? It's not that sweet. Hell, it even had a slightly bitter aftertaste, like most coffees I've had.'

"Well? What else did he say?" Brittany asked excitedly, keen for details. She was a bit of a gossipmonger, but this was just between her and her sisters. _This_ _time_ , that is. "What did he say?"

"He…" She made an evident hesitate. "He…" 'Well, maybe they would know. Especially Jeanette.' "He wanted it to be more like my espresso."

"He wanted it to be stronger?" Jeanette deadpanned. Eleanor was about to slap her own forehead for the reason that she had let slip precious information when her **smarter** sister still came to the same conclusion that she herself had. But that changed when she saw Brittany with a smug look as she had her index and thumb in closed links between her left and right hand.

"Union," was all she would say.

"...Boyfriend and girlfriend?" Eleanor asked in incredulity. "Of all the…"

"Before you start fighting it," Jeanette hushed her sister as she came to the realization of what Brittany was saying. "Let's be honest; is that such a bad thing? Who do you see yourself growing old with?"

"Umm…" A dramatic pause. "To be honest, I saw myself growing old with Theodore…as his next door neighbor."

Brittany's jaw dropped as did her hands. "Really?"

"We nearly ended up as brother and sister what with the adoption you fought against." Eleanor commented pointedly. "Sooo…"

"…"

"…" The two younger sisters both stared at Brittany and started pondering unmentioned reasons why she had ran afoul against the adoption. "I think she didn't want Alvin as a _brother_ ," Jeanette said at last.

"Damn right," Brittany answered hastily with a growl. "He'd drive me nuts!"

This sounded like a plausible and entirely probable reason.

 _Sounded_.

The two younger sisters were about to fight it, but they all realized that they both may have had feelings for their own counterparts, as they only accepted the adoption half-heartedly. It was more out of politeness and a need for a parent why they might have gone through with it, but utilized Brittany's fortification against it as an excuse not to.

Why were they fighting about this?

Brittany realized this now at the same time as her sisters, and her jaw dropped. "Oh my God. This is going to make a mess out of the in-laws deal. We're all going to be in-laws with the Sevilles."

"Me?" Jeanette asked with a crimson face. "I said nothing."

"I said _neighbors_." Eleanor reminded.

"We're not fooling any of ourselves." Brittany deadpanned. "And if Theodore could just up and mention that…Theodore, the **mildest** one out of all of them could come out and say that he wanted a stronger relationship with Ellie, then who's to say they don't all feel the same way?"

And that's when she herself had her answer.

That was how Alvin must've felt. Why she could get him to react in the ways he did. Why she sometimes felt paranoid when he and her where alone and she had her back turned. Why he was always… _there_. Did he know? Did she actually feel the way he might be, or was it guilt for her own natures?

She had no idea. Whoever said love was simple? This had to be as complicated and confusing like when Simon and Jeanette were playing scrabble. That reminded her of another fact.

"Why's that each of us is always spending time with a particular brother?"

"We're like each other." Jeanette answered. "That's why. Simon and I are the intellectuals, and the middle siblings, Eleanor and Theodore tend to be the most emotional when times call for it, and for the most part, interrelated when it comes on to all forms of eatery and they're the youngest. You and Alvin…well, simply put, you're both brash and headstrong. And competitive. And egotistical. And-"

"Get to the point!"

"And you're the oldest. Is it just me, or does it feels like we're tailor-made for each of ourselves?" Jeanette wondered.

"…"

"…"

"This answered a lot of questions, and raised a shit-ton of others." Eleanor bluntly stated. "I'm going to bed, you crazy love-birds."

"Denial." Brittany chirped.

"I bet you're the one in denial," Eleanor answered as she got ready to go to bed. "But then again, you used to be locked up in your bedroom with Alvin…who knows what you two used to do up there."

"Nothing," Brittany coolly answered.

"Really? There were some speculations-"

"We did nothing. But I did write that song."

"Oh." Eleanor was a bit disappointed that she had nothing to pin on her sister as scandalous, but the song suddenly came to mind, particularly the lyrics closer to the…bridge? How did it go? "The ones that we love are here with me'?"

"Heh heh," Brittany chuckled nervously. "Yeaahhh…that does sound a bit...huh."

"That's fine." Jeanette piped up. "What bothered me was the part 'The pain is strong, and urges rise'. I was wondering what that part meant, but then you sang 'But I'll see you when he lets me'."

Brittany was as silent as a grave.

"You were…'impatient'. But what to my understanding…" Jeanette took off her glasses and rested it on her night table. "You were suicidal."

Three minutes fled as they all gazed at each other. "…Yes."

Eleanor quickly bit down on the back of her fist to muffle her initial reaction and decided to let Brittany try to defend herself, if she had any such argument. She didn't speak for another ten minutes, but when she did, it was in a hushed tone.

"I was. I…was. It was my fault…" Tears started running down her cheeks. "If I had warned her earlier about the other car…she would have still been alive."

Jeanette kept her secrets to herself; particularly that of the suspicions she shared with Simon. "It's not your fault-"

"It is!" She shouted before her tone resumed its originally near-silent and lucid one. "If Alvin hadn't come…maybe one morning you would have gone into the bathroom to find my body in the tub with my wrists slashed with one of the kitchen knives…That was a recurring idea on most days. The runner-up idea was to hang myself with a couple of my belts tied together. It'd make less of a mess for you two to deal with after I was gone," she mumbled tearfully. She choked back a sob but echoes of it still escaped her throat and were plainly audible.

Her two sisters stared at their oldest with widened eyes and dropped jaws. They had no idea that her grief was that terrible to begin with-…she was just completely mute, and withdrawn. None of them knew what was going on in her head, and if Alvin had gotten her to open up after a day of staying beside her, perhaps it was his presence that had kept her from actually going through with it. Perhaps to the fact that she didn't even want to dare the attempt while he was around; that was if someone had the thought of figuring him to have 'bad timing'.

"I had no idea…"

"It's not your fault." Brittany parroted her sister's earlier admonishment. "I…I can't talk about this anymore…" She laid back down on her bed nestled in her own bed-sheets. As Eleanor got up to turn off the light-switch as she was the best person for the job, as it was apparent. Brittany was currently stifled with emotions, and Jeanette had already removed her spectacles. As she herself lay back down and stared at the darkened ceiling, she wondered about her current relationship with Theodore.

Was she in actual full acceptance of what she had now with him? Did she herself want more and not know it?

Yet?

 **=X=X=**

He had been fully comfortable at the thickest area where it had connected to the sturdy trunk. But now he had taken a chance and gone out fully on the end of the limb, and it was threatening to snap under his weight. Now, there was a possibility that he had endangered all that he had already had, all for the risk of reaching out for the delectable fruit of intimacy.

He wasn't a child anymore. Granted, fourteen was still a young age, but he had grown too complacent with what he had now. It wasn't his…issue. The problem was, he was tired of being the third-rate brother. Not in and of itself, but rather, the brother who was overly nice, too gullible, portly, and…child-like. Perhaps that was the reason why he currently felt the way he did. The girl who he had begun developing feelings for only saw him as a friend at the very best, and like a son at the very worst.

A maternal figure.

He had had to nip that in the bud, before it had grown stronger. He had taken the initiative, when he was sure that no one else had tried to. He…crawled out of the safety of his shell to 'ask' Eleanor for a stronger form of inseparability…to be…in _that_ kind of a relationship. He had belayed his own nature to go on the offensive, to be aggressive, and had told her. Not her telling him, or taking a cue or clue or example from anyone else.

It could be that it was another way of trying to become an equal to her, instead of her constantly looking down on him. Not of scorn, minding, but even worse, like a baby brother as she seemed to have taken to recently.

That would leave him in the fastest vehicle on the shortest road to nowhere.

But he had to ask himself…how did he _really_ feel about her?

The answer was simple. He was sure that he must've loved her. It was now four-fifteen a.m. in the morning; so he was told by the glowing clock on the wall…and he had just had his third erotic dream that night-…a constant, unbroken record for the past two months.

They varied little, and only by change of scenery. It was never lewd, and so virginal that it made blue and sunny skies look pallid. It was all pure, and always started out with him paying her a visit.

She was never her brash self as when she was in defense of him, but all of the caring side she could muster when she was with him and without her elevated status with him inferior to her. The intimacy was unadulterated by anything else. All details became vague and then non-existent as he confessed to her of his true feelings. To his invariable surprise, she would admit to feeling the same way, and he would take charge by trying to kiss her.

First, he would draw her closer to himself by her shoulders gently, and she was firm, yet completely relenting as she allowed herself to be pulled towards him. As she came closer to him, his arms would fold a bit around her shoulders, and she would reciprocate by hugging him about the lower back…

And then they would meld together, to form one unit, an undiluted persona as they kissed while the sun would set to their far right. The kiss was absolute, and her soft lips would match his perfectly, and welcome him to a paramount of pleasure as they-

And then he would wake up; it left him frustrated, and he would go back to sleep, only to dream of the scenario again. Every time, for more than sixty days total, he would dream up to four times a night without fail of a kiss completely corroded with pleasure, and what was supposedly the best part would slip from his grasp and he would wake up.

Every…single…time.

His cheeks felt dampened, and as he touched it tentatively, it came back wet with his tears. Soon, the waterworks ran undeterred and began to soak his pillow.

But he paid it no mind.

"*Sniff* What…what if it's a sign? What if it means that we're not meant to be together like that?" He mumbled as he felt his heart break the more and more time passed. "I…w-why? Why n-not…?"

Why indeed.

Theodore looked at the glowing hands of the clock. He…felt no desire for sleep, if the dreams of his paradise were now haunting him every night so repeatedly.

Eleanor…Eleanor was coming when visiting hours started, most likely to talk to him about what he said before his incident.

He sat up in the bed, and stared at the clock tick away its slow seconds in its mind-numbing monotone. He would wait.

He…waited…and waited…and waited…

He wished he had more time.

 **=X=X=**

She opened the door easily and quietly. Her first intended reaction was to hail to him about how he was getting released, but she forewent the action when she saw him sitting up and staring, presumably, at the clock.

He appeared to be fully rested, and yet with his reddened eyes, she didn't think she had ever seen him look so tired. It was as if he had slept for at least most of the night, but had gotten none of the resting benefits. In a hurry, she was at his side, and holding his hand.

"Theodore? What's wrong?" Eleanor asked in her concern. She was slightly unnerved when his head turned to meet hers, and she could hear the bones and joints of his neck realign properly-…his head must've been in that position for hours. 'How long had he been staring at the clock?!'

"Nothing's wrong." He tried to smile, but it came off as woefully inadequate, as she could see that it was faked. "I'm fine."

"Theodore?" She tried to put on her 'chastising' tone, but failed as it sounded like complete worry. "I…what did you mean when you said you wanted our relationship to be like my-"

"Espresso?" He finished. He had always admired her blunt personality, but now, she looked…shocked. Was it because he had crossed her line of speech? He wasn't too sure, but she nodded dumbly. "I wanted our relationship to be…stronger, I guess."

"I…don't understand."

"Yes you do!" He exclaimed, rather unbecoming of his character. "You do," he mumbled the last quietly, almost as a plead. "You do…"

"Did anyone put you up to this?" It wasn't the first time he had done or said things he hadn't wanted to because of some underhanded trick, or bullied to that point. It was a weak argument, and she knew it. In fact, this very 'conversation' was scaring her half-to-death and she fervently hoped it didn't show.

"No. I…I feel like I've developed stronger feelings for you, Ellie." He said her name with a drawn out exhale. He spoke all in abandon, as if he had just relieved himself of a burden. It made her wonder how long this had been going on, and seriously think as to how she could have missed this. Was it that she had ignored it?

"W-what kind of f-feelings?" Eleanor stammered.

He was about to just tell her 'love', but one side of him decided that it was too corny. The other side decided that she was trying to avoid the issue, when she knew what he meant.

Both were in full accordance to oppose and yet he told her that one word anyhow.

"Love."

She looked as if she wanted to bolt from the room, never to return. But she did something worse.

 **Far** **worse**.

She tried to laugh it off by giggling a bit, and playfully pinching his cheeks like how she usually did. It went on for another minute, before the virtually audible sound of his heart smashing to infinitesimal bits was known to both of them.

And they were both affected, he more than she.

It would be in a long time repairing, if it ever became whole again.

That, he knew.

 **Another 4k chapter. We've had almost nothing but Theonor development, although it was more like separating them than pulling them together. To be honest, this part of the story was completely unplanned, but while I was going over the plot, I decided to let Theodore 'take a hit' first (Poisoning). And it played out naturally into this drama you just saw. I thought it was fine. Anyway, while I was doing it, I realized that I had found a way to develop Theonor, and what better way than a failed attempt of one of them trying to get with the other? If I was having a lot of trouble trying to make them fall in love each other, why not try to make it from Love that was pre-existent, and make it fail? Sorry Theodore. You'll have your day-…nice guys do finish first! Don't let anyone tell you different!**

 **Still, I have found a way to merge this into the original plot seamlessly…yeaaahhh…**

 **Valete omnes,**

 **MRAY 4TW.**


	13. Chapter 13

**AATC: Territory**

 **Well, I know that I said that I didn't have much planned for 'that kind of teen drama'. I suppose what I've done 'reads' fine to me despite that; I really think so. I don't know about the rest of you out there. Maybe I'm blundering around, and you're all being cruel by not correcting me. Or I'm doing fine, so there's no room for correction. Damn, this is confusing the hell outta me...**

 **Just leave a review anyway. It'll let me know that the fic is being read by real people and not robots.**

 **13.**

It was easily noticeable…that something convoluted was going on. But what, they had no idea. When everyone had arrived, they saw that Theodore was quietly seated on his bed and Eleanor on the chair adjacent. He had already been briefed by the doctor to change into his clothes that hung in a nearby closet, valid to the fact that he was to be released 'first thing in the morning'. Furthermore, that way he could be ready to be logged out the minute his family came for him.

As to the so-called peculiar event taking place, all seemed normal. But conceivably, it could be that Theodore was quiet…maybe more than usual. It wasn't that he was quiet before, it's just that he wasn't as outspoken as his siblings and other fellow companions. Now, even more so than before.

"Good morning, Theodore!" Dave greeted. "Sleep well?"

"Like the usual," the chipmunk answered a tad shortly. "Can we go?"

No one missed Eleanor's deeply-furrowing eyebrows. "I wanna go too."

Jeanette nearly grimaced. 'Hmm…something transpired between the two, I'm sure. Indubitably, it had to do with what we were all talking about last night. Maybe I can request Simon to ask Theodore what happened, since I doubt Ellie will tell me. She didn't come off as welcoming for any sort of discussion last night. Speaking of which…' She glanced at her elder sister standing close by to Alvin when they had walked in. 'I still can't believe I never noticed the signs before…my own sister…suicidal. Maybe Alvin really is the one for her in the same way that maybe Simon really is the one for me... How does he feel about me?'

A sideways-look to the blue clad chipmunk let her know that he was ostensibly studying his younger brother. "Theodore, do you feel…okay?" He said the last after a prolonged hesitate; he was forcing himself to use 'easy' words.

"I feel fine."

"Jeanette?" Simon asked the name to the selfsame individual. "Do you think there could have been a side-effect of moodiness in the _you-know-what_?"

The violet chipette caught on quickly. "No. Perhaps it's because he's famish-…hungry."

Alvin huffed as he looked around the room. "I always hated hospitals…especially that 'clean' smell."

"You're smelling the antiseptics and germicides." Simon volunteered. "And of course you'd hate it-…It's not as if you're the one who spends the most time in hospitals out of all of us."

"Hey…I break a leg one time and get numerous checkups on my muscles and bones…and it haunts me for life as far you're concerned. What's up with that, huh Simon?!"

"Would you prefer to be in a wheelchair?" Brittany muttered. "I still remember a certain fire hydrant in Richmond."

"Everything has its risks, Brit! Geez!"

"Quiet." A doctor peered in through the door and admonished the chipmunk. "You're not the only ones here. Other people are resting and recuperating and there are still others who are asleep."

"I know I want to be," Alvin grumbled. "Why the heck do I have to be up this early?"

"It's ten in the morning," Brittany chastised. "What's with you and this oversleeping thing?"

"It used to be a habit, I guess. But now I realized that the more time I spend asleep is less time to feel this headache. Must be a migraine by now, if Si was right in his so-called diagnosis." 'Or if it's because of what Valerie was talking about. Shouldn't the headache leave now that I know the song?'

The doctor didn't pay enough attention to that as much as he would have liked. He had bigger fish to fry. "Well, carry on. In the meantime, Mr. Seville, I would like to have a word with you."

"Hmm?" Dave looked to the doctor with a worried expression. "It's not anything bad, is it?"

It was here that Simon scrutinized the doctor's eyes, keeping in mind how he had learnt amateurish ways to tell when someone was lying. Basically, if someone's eyes looked slightly up and to their left, then they were 'accessing facts' from their memory. If it was to the right in general, then they were 'consulting' the area responsible for creativity and imagination. To be candid, a way to lie. This was from the liar's point-of-view and the perspective was reverse from the questioner. It was fairly unreliable for 'yes and no' answers, so he needed an in-depth and detailed excuse for it to work properly.

"He's set to release." Simon stated. "In fact, we're ready to leave."

Up and to the left. "I only need Mr. Seville…" Up and to the right. "…To sign his release forms."

"That's fine." Dave answered. "I don't have a pen, though."

Up and to the left. "The secretary down the hall has a pen. You can borrow one from her. Shall we go?"

Dave gave a small shrug and went to and through the door, closing it behind him. The others turned to busy themselves with Theodore once more, but Simon discretely broke away from that number and treaded as silently as he could to the door. After he tentatively turned the doorknob, he slipped outside, just in time to notice the two men departing down the nearly deserted corridors, save for a few orderlies that bustled to the rooms where their charges occupied.

'That's down the hall? No it isn't. I think that's the opposite direction…' Simon mused. Taking care to keep himself behind at a respectable distance, he walked in the set of the noisier footsteps of Dave's clicking groom shoes. 'A doctor lying…something's not settling right.'

After a few sharp corners bent by the pair of men, they stopped at the doctor's choosing. Simon was at great pains to avoid getting caught as he nearly bumbled into the men; it was indeed fortunate that he looked around corners instead of fully walking around them to keep them in sight. They were merely five feet away from him and the ward corridor back the way he came was dozens of meters long. He'd never get back out of sight if they were to cease what they were doing suddenly and return the way they came only to discover him.

'But what if when they're done talking they take me by surprise? I need to know everything and I could do without their knowledge of my presence.' He mused as he crouched at the corner.

A flash of quick thinking made him remove his white handkerchief while removing his smartphone. After activating the voice-recorder app, he very slightly wrapped the handkerchief over the phone once and placed it at the very edge of the corner; hoping fervently that the white of the fabric would camouflage it with the white ceramic tiling. Hopefully, none of the men would notice it or anyone else who chanced by.

Keeping that in mind, he crept back up the hallway as he heard the men begin to speak. "I suppose this is far enough," Simon heard the doctor say. "I wanted to speak to you about-…"

And he heard no more as the distance increased too far out of earshot.

…

…

…

'He's acting kinda weird.' Alvin ruminated. 'And where's Simon?'

As if on a mental cue, his brother entered the room as if he owned it. "I'm back."

"I didn't even know you left." Brittany conveyed in a bewildered voice. "Where'd you go?"

"I went out in the hallway trying to find a better Wi-Fi signal. So…Theodore-"

"You guys saw me yesterday; you're all acting like you haven't seen me in months," Theodore interrupted.

Simon raised an eyebrow at this, completely taken aback. "You were **poisoned** only yesterday, after all. We have a right to be worried."

"I'm fine." Theodore mumbled almost tearfully. "I'm fine."

"He's acting like a pregnant lady or something," the pink chipette hissed to Alvin. However, she was overheard by Simon who told that he had bipolarized emotions. She supposed that 'bi' meant two so she figured out the meaning for herself; by the basics, either having good emotions or angst ones. "Anyway, we haven't eaten anything yet so uh…let's go-"

"Brittany…the guy who poisoned Theo is still out there," Eleanor blankly stated. "Remember what Simon said yesterday?"

"I'm not going to let someone decide what and where I eat!" Alvin exclaimed furiously. "And if I ever find that guy, I'm gonna commit-"

"Murder?" Brittany offered.

"Assault?" This came from Simon.

"Battering?" Eleanor suggested.

"All very good choices," the red chipmunk pretended to hem and haw. "But yeah, I'm hungry too and I could do without the risk of getting poisoned, even though it's 'fake'. By the way, Theodore, how was it? Did you see your life flash before your eyes or anything like that?"

"No. But it was painful," Theodore answered. "It felt like I was getting electrocuted while getting a punch in the chest."

"How would you what a punch to the chest feels like?" Eleanor asked.

"A lot of times, Alvin had to finish fights for me at school." He answered with a tad of shame. "But they started with bullies picking on me."

The door reopened at this and Dave entered alongside the doctor. "All right; I signed him out. Let's go guys."

Simon perked up at this, now recalling his phone as it must have recorded what the men had spoken of. "In a minute. Let me go use the restroom first."

"Are you going to clean the windows with a hose or are you going to drop bombs on the battlefield?" Alvin asked with a bit of a chuckle.

"I guess that's one way for a guy to say that they're either going to urinate, or if they're going to take a sh-" Alvin sufficiently clapped his hand over Brittany's mouth before she could finish.

"Don't let Dave hear you say that…" He shushed. Simon merely rolled his eyes at this before he quickly stepped out and jogged as best he could back to where he left his phone. Spotting it to still be undisturbed, he scooped it up and tossed the handkerchief in a nearby bin. He did **not** want to use an item on his face that previously rested on a hospital's floor. Quickly checking his phone to save the recording, he speedily titled it as 'Hospital' as he sped-walked back to Theodore's room. Replacing his phone back in his pocket at the same time of his arrival, he nearly bumped into the others who were exiting the room.

"Done already?" Dave asked in surprise.

"I only went to wash my hands," Simon lied smoothly. "This is a hospital, after all. Do you have any idea how countless legions of germs that may litter the doorknobs by the sick? How they may cough in their palms and then grasp the knobs? The doctors, nurses, orderlies and other such staff members are prepared by wearing gloves; I'm **not**."

And that only served to make all of them look down at their respective hands before pushing their way past him to head for the restrooms.

"Don't forget to bring some tissues to hold the doorknobs on the way out," Simon called after them. He congratulated himself mentally for the ploy before heading to the exit. 'They'll catch up.'

 **=X=X=**

"Well…give me some good news."

" _All of the hardware is set up in both places. It's all visuals though, because we can't risk using microphones that can create feedback."_

"How's the image?"

" _Good quality, even for such a small thing like that."_

"It's fine," Vincent reassured. "A picture is worth a thousand words, and even more so long as the res ain't cheap. Monitor the feed through the private link." The rap-metal singer ordered before hanging up on the call. "That takes care of that. Yo Lamar?"

"Hmm?" The bodyguard looked up from he was half-stretched on the couch. "Yeah?"

"Do you know the guy who you had to 'persuade' to feed the brats?"

"Yeah. I can find 'im. He has his own little living spot where he usually sells his shit. I only had to tell him once for him to do as he was told. I even found out that it was the puniest one that got poisoned. He didn't drink too much, as we found out. He only drank enough to have a single fit, instead of a row of 'em."

Ravin' Raven nodded in understanding. He heard that too. "A'right. So you know where to find the pusher. You even know where he lives."

Lamar nodded only once and it was extremely slight. Ravin' Raven who was used to the burly man's ways was familiar with it, knew that the man was aware of what he was going to say next. That was good; it meant less of a reaction.

"Go shut him up."

Lamar merely got up and left the room.

…

…

…

Salvatore Dumont looked over his reflection in the mirror, feeling the aches and pains of his recently offended face. His black eye was still plain for all to see and his broken nose was even more obvious. His European ancestry would was probably shot for all he had except in name; he suspected it to be Italian. But how could he when he no longer had the supposed suave look of one, save for the cleft but yet pointed chin? He didn't even have an accent-…he was fifth generation born, as much as he had cared to find out.

"F*ckin' bastard Lamar," he grunted in a whisper. "They used to pay me for doing shit like that. Now they're threatening me? I hope I didn't kill the little guy; my cousin loves to hear 'em sing. They're supposed to be better than the shit that R-R prick keeps up with. All he's doing is chanting to a whole lot of noise-"

He heard heavy pounding knocks on his apartment door. "Huh? Who is it?!" He called. "I'm not sellin' any shit!"

"It's me, Sal." A reverberating-like voice responded.

"Huh? I asked who the f*ck is it?!" Salvatore yelled. **(1)**

"Just open the door."

Dumont was no fool. He knew who the owner of the voice was. It was the mountain of a man named Lamar-…the very same who had nearly dented his face with only one punching clout a bare two days ago. He was nothing more than a brute, but if the man wanted entry, he could merely kick the door in. He was like a force of nature and not easily deterred at any point in time.

"I'm coming."

Salvatore went over to his mattress and hefted up a corner of it, close to the end of the bed's frame. His own Colt gray-steel pistol laid there. As he took it up, the room-temperature of the weapon felt cool and inviting. In fact, he was tempted to just shoot the man through the wooden door and be done with it, before moving all of his dope business to the other side of the state. But on occasion, he was a man of needless risk...although he probably should have left already.

He silently and slowly pulled back the cavity on the ballistics-theory weapon to chamber a round before he thrust the weapon behind him into his waistband. The endeavor completed, he approached the door and opened it but allowed the privacy chain to stay in place.

As he had suspected, he saw that it was Lamar. "Took you long enough. Sorry about decking you in the face."

Dumont glared through the opening that the chain permitted. "Ain't no way you came all the way just to apologize."

"No. But you didn't get paid…"

'Hmm…good reason. They always paid me before.' "Okay. Give it to me."

Lamar wordlessly took out the wad of cash held together by an elastic band, all of the tender in hundred dollar bills. He then handed it through the space and placed it in the man's half-stretched hand. "Be seein' you, Sal."

'Be seeing you too, assh*le.' "Yeah," the newly-paid man grunted. After retrieving the cash in his by retracting his right hand, he began to close the door with his left; he was immensely thankful that nothing had gone awry and by the 'feel of things', he was more than ten thousand richer. However, just as the door was about to finish the act of shutting, the door slammed back and smashed him in the face even as the privacy chain was ripped out from the door as it suffered not being able to firmly anchor it.

"Agh!" Salvatore squealed as the door walloped him directly in the face, agitating his previous injuries and creating new ones. He reeled back in his hurt and through blurred vision, perceived Lamar with his foot outstretched; he must've kicked the door in just as he had felt the potential worst would have never come to pass. "Bastard! I'll kill you, you son of a bitch!" **(2)**

"Perfect," Lamar muttered. "Put on a show." He reached behind his own leather jacket and pulled out his 9mm pistol and leveled it at Dumont's chest coolly, as if this was normal to him.

And it was.

In a panic, Salvatore quickly reached behind him and pulled out his own gun and swung it to aim as one would point a finger. Before it could reach to the end of its intended arc, fire blossomed at the end of Lamar's gun and an explosion boomed in the small confines of the room; pain flared in affronted man's chest.

"Aggghhh!" Salvatore yelled in his agony and grunted through the hurt of his horrid internal misery. As he persisted, he resolved not to die so easily as something insignificant. "You-…!" He aimed his gun regardless but the now blurring form of Lamar regained a large muzzle flash in the hand where he held his own weapon. He was shot again in the chest as the metal intruder bored through his left lung but to his own surprise, he was lackadaisical to that; instead, he was taking note of the screaming that was going on in the apartment building. Everyone was hearing it and no doubt that some were hiding, while others were running out downstairs; they were only on the second floor after all. And Lamar _himself_ began yelling.

"What kind of f*cked up coke is this?!"

As he stumbled backwards and toppled onto his back, his gun falling from relaxing fingers, he now realized how his likely death would be portrayed on television. That was further proven as Lamar retrieved a small 'baggie' of cocaine from his pocket and dropped it nonchalantly on the ground. 'Damn. …Just a damn…bad…drug…' His line of thought went unfinished when his whole body went limp as his soul embraced the black.

Perhaps it was for the best, as Salvatore Dumont did not feel the next three bullets that Lamar drilled into his chest. He was merely putting pain into a corpse, the devil tormenting a cadaver.

Said devil looked around with an air of finality, before stepping outside; he then ran to the fire-escape that ran along the back of the building while replacing his gun back where he took from in his waistband, before re-zipping his leather jacket. Letting himself through the emergency door, he calmly vaulted over the railing and fall down to the ground below. He landed right next to his motorcycle and without preamble, put on the helmet that was heavily tinted black.

Quickly starting up his transportation, he gunned it up and was soon out of the district, with no one the wiser to what he did.

Not a single one.

 **=X=X=**

They all stepped inside at one p.m., all having eaten at a fast food place _far_ from where Theodore had gotten his 'cup of poison'. Simon, having noticed a somewhat improvement in Theodore's behavior had turned to Dave's own. Ever since leaving the hospital, he was anxious to listen again to the recording that he had on his phone. He had a lot to think about.

A…lot.

From ever since, he had known Alvin to be a good planner. Not necessarily beforehand, but rather on the fly. Alvin was a genius when it came to _acting and reacting_. He paid respects to that. Theodore was the one that had the principles. When it all came together, Alvin was the schemer, Simon himself to iron out the details and Theodore was the one who rounded it with his morals. Each part was important and if his guess was right, something was horribly wrong with Miami and it was affecting them all; more than likely it was and would be directly, rather than indirectly.

He had the nagging feeling that the recording he had listened to in the fast-food restaurant's restroom held ingrained suspicions and knew it had to do with them all. The recording itself told him so.

They had gotten close to nil pertaining to the map, Theodore's gotten poisoned with a message that said 'go home' and he couldn't help but piece it all as the reason that it was because Florida on a whole was shaded red.

'Dave knows something. What and why won't he tell us?'

"Alright. So what are we going to do? Find an auditorium and practice or something?" Alvin asked. "Or can I get to go out to-"

"I want everyone to stay inside today," Dave responded in haste. "Besides, Theodore needs to rest. Tomorrow we can practice. I'll call in a favor from someone to borrow a place."

"I feel fine." The green Seville insisted.

"If Theodore's the one who needs 'rest'," Alvin nearly spat out the last word with disgust. The only time he kept still and 'rested' was when he slept. "Why can't _I_ go out?"

"Just stay inside." Dave ordered firmly. "It's just for a day. Besides, aren't you the one who has a headache?"

"Well, time for bed." Alvin faked a yawn. "Yeah…I don't think so," he drawled out sarcastically.

"Alvinnn…" The warning was clearly permeating the tone.

"Actually Alvin," Simon piped up as he noted Dave's currently excessive over-protective nature. "I want to go over some songs with you. Let's go next door."

"Why can't you stay in our own suite to do it?" Dave asked curiously.

"If Theo's resting over here, we wouldn't want to disturb him by doing it in our suite. C'mon Alvin." Simon grabbed Alvin's wrist and pulled him along behind him. Although the elder brother could easily shake off the grip of the younger, he allowed himself to be handled and he was soon taken through the door to the girl's suite.

"What's this all about Simon?" Alvin asked. "I know that we're not going over any songs. Especially not without Theodore." The chipettes came in soon after the two, but flanked around them to head to the television area to watch it. They saw nothing wrong with the chipmunks over in their suite…they themselves went into the chipmunks' suite all the time.

"…" Simon hesitated and wondered if he should bring Alvin into this after all. All he had were suspicions; nothing concrete. He himself had listened to the recording yet and still…he supposed it was the brother in him that wanted Alvin to be in on it, he pondered. Alvin was fiercely loyal and could keep a secret. "I want you to listen to a recording with me."

A few minutes found the two chipmunks having earphones plugged into an ear belonging to each. Alvin got a brief sense of déjà vu, recalling having done with this Valerie not too long before on the airplane. "Why won't you tell me what it is?" He looked around the room and frowned. "And why do we have to be on the roof? The wind blowing up here is going to mess with my hearing."

"Stop whining. Listen. Do you remember the map that Dave had in his planner?"

This got serious all of a sudden.

"Yeah. We still don't really know about why he didn't want to go to Jersey. He keeps talking about school and all that. We could have sing with Ravin' Raven!"

" _Sung_ with Ravin' Raven," Simon corrected. "If it was because we had to go back to school soon, why would we still come to Miami?"

"I dunno. It's the best gig. Miami's the most exclusive. I think the payout will be better than the usual, not to mention the international AIDS charity I heard Dave talk about with Valerie not too long ago."

"Exactly." The blue Seville relied in a congratulatory tone. "What happened to Theodore?"

"He got poisoned."

"And the message said to 'go home'. Yet, we're staying."

"Maybe Dave will soon try to make us leave," Alvin chided. "He's always worrying. I bet that we'll be gone in three days."

"He hasn't said anything about that." Simon reminded. "We're probably going to stay."

"How would you know that?"

"I need you to listen." Simon quickly went into his phone's 'Engineer Settings' to boost the phone's volume before heading over to his application that held his sound recorder. Here, he had a decent number of espionage information he had accumulated over time but he selected the right one and allowed it to play. "Just listen and don't speak."

" _I suppose this is far enough. I want to speak to you about what I overheard you yell yesterday."_

" _If I was disturbing other people, I apologize. Anyway shouldn't I supposed to be logging Theodore out?"_

'That sounds like the doctor and Dave,' Alvin thought as he continued to listen.

" _You will. After we speak, that is. About your yell…"_

" _I hope I didn't disturb anyone. I momentarily forgot I was in a hospital."_

" _That is the least of your concern and worries. I have seen young Theodore's case before. I am familiar with the deed. And I know that you have some idea as to who did this."_

A sigh was heard here; it was likely that Dave was the one who did it. _"Jealous and territorial dogs."_

Alvin scowled at this. 'What the hell?'

" _Ah. As to the poison…I have seen five total cases. Two perished nearly instantly from an 'overdose'. The three that lived only had the initial scenario so I can tell from experience that Theodore will be fine. His current behavior is completely emotional. But as to the culprit, all we can do is point fingers but we have no proof."_

" _Why would you speak to me about this?"_

" _I'm a practitioner of medicine; it's in my best interest that I don't have see anyone ill, or worse, pronounce them dead. You must leave Miami. Then this will all blow over."_

A brief pause. _"We can't leave. We have too much riding on this."_

" _Fame and fortune? You would risk all for superfluous things of this world, when life is more precious? I urge you to consider your alternatives; think about your charges. Even your own adopted son with his brief medical scare."_

" _It's not fame and fortune,"_ Dave said heatedly. _"While I admit there's a substantial benefit in that area, not to mention my integrity and reliability will be at stake. The main reason is because of the final charity. I promised them a healthy sum, and it's an AIDS beneficial charity case. I lost a relative because of AIDS and I'm not ashamed to say that it's probably clouding my better judgment."_

" _You can't help anyone if you're-"_

" _Don't finish that. The music business is harsh and forgiving, that much is true. But I won't allow anything bad to happen to them."_

" _You've done a fine job with the smallest."_ The doctor said in utter contempt. _"How many more before you realize that you're losing your family members to something that you could have avoided? It's almost as if you're using them-"_

" _Shut…up. We're done talking. Give me the damn form so I can get my family out of this hospital."_

" _That would be for the best. But I pray that I won't see you here before all is said and done. But in the case of the lesser of two evils, better to see me here in the hospital than the mortician in the morgue."_

At this, Simon quit playing the recording as the recording had continued in silence when the men did up the forms and returned back to the room. "That's that. Territory. We're in someone's plotted space and they want us OUT."

"I've never heard Dave even say the word 'damn' before. But yeah, this is serious. We-…we're not safe." Alvin observed with an increasingly alarming amount of concern. "Someone's out to get us. What are we going to do, Simon?"

"…"

"Simon?" Alvin regarded his silent brother in worry.

"…I…I was hoping that you knew. If we're staying…and someone's out to get us…I don't know what to do to stop them."

 **1- I was wondering if I should bump up the rating but it's up to you guys to decide. I mean, I only censor one vowel in the explicit language. It's not too offensive…right?**

 **2- I suppose the word 'bitch' is fine. It's basically a female dog and the word 'bastard' generally means something with questionable lineage.**

 **This chapter fought me a lot at the end and I had to put in a lot of 'oomph' to smooth out the details. Also, I bet you could practically feel how incredibly condensed this chapter was. Anyway, see you all in a fortnight and thanks for waiting. I hope it was worth it.**

 **Valete omnes,**

 **MRAY 4TW.**


	14. Chapter 14

**AATC: Territory**

 **Time – 17: 16 pm**

 **Date – April 22, 2016**

 **Well, it's a Friday evening and I guess it's time to type. I've been wandering around the fandom and from what I can see is that people seem to only tend to review when it's a heavily-laced romantic moment. I bet you all think I'm moving slow with the romance.**

 **No I'm not. Rushed romances tend to be built on infatuations and that just doesn't work in real life, not to mention that this romance will remain intact for the rest of their lives, not ending after the thrills are over. While I may use infatuation to a slight extent, all I do is meticulously planned to every letter and punctuation mark.**

 **Trust the plan. I'm not asking you to review presently. I'm merely asking if you find anything wrong, let me know. I don't want to be the guy who wrote a story with some titanic error and his own readers let it continue.**

 **14.**

"This is…" Alvin ripped the earphone out of his ear and virtually threw it back at Simon. "Utter bullshit!"

Simon was a bit startled at his brother's language but was a bit thankful it wasn't more candid. "Although that wouldn't be my choice of words, I couldn't agree more."

"What're we going to do?! Dave knew that something was wrong! He knows it! Let me see the picture of the map you took!" Alvin stretched his hand to his brother and Simon merely pulled up the image and showed it to him. "Look! He had all the areas we went had the states as white and nothing happened-"

"You nearly beat a guy to death in Richmond but all of Virginia was white," the blue Seville reminded.

"Besides that!" Alvin retorted. "Now that we're here in Florida which he **clearly** did not want to come to and all of sudden, Theodore gets poisoned! He knows!"

"How much does he really know?" Simon asked seriously. "He didn't specify a name, although the doctor acted like he might know. Maybe they're just too scared to talk who it is."

"Scared? Hah!" the red Seville scoffed. "They just didn't mention it. I've never seen Dave scared, and if he really was scared he wouldn't have come here!"

"It could be because he's concerned for us," Simon tried to defend their adoptive father, and was mildly successful as Alvin merely dropped off that case point for another.

"Even so, someone obviously believes that Florida belongs to them and that we should go." Alvin sounded uncharacteristically intelligent but Simon paid it no mind. "They tried to send us a message and they hurt Theodore! What if they hurt Brit?" He said carelessly.

"Why would you say Brittany in particular?" Simon inquired. "Why not say another specific name or even all of us in general?"

"Brittany doesn't deserve it, a'right?!" He yelled outright, almost to the point of sending stray spittle flying. "She's been through too much, and then this shit happens!"

"Ah, you mean her attempted kidnapping, I presume?"

"That's a big one, but there're other things…" Alvin said in a hesitant monotone and it thoroughly disturbed his younger brother.

"When Ms. Miller passed on? I know she took it the hardest. Jeanette told me last year that Brittany blamed herself for her untimely passing." 'Although I still think it could've been a murder. They were on their way home from a concert, maybe someone got jealous or something and tried to frighten them away from the business, but it went awry. Maybe even pre-meditated murder.'

"That played a huge part in it…" Alvin's eyes glazed over a bit as he became lost in thought. He quickly shook himself free, hoping to avoid the act of dredging up memories. "Other things too…"

"Like what?"

"I wasn't meant to know," Alvin answered mysteriously. "And if I told you, it might make matters worse. We can't tell the girls. It would just make them worry too much. They already have too much on their plates, especially with what happened to Theodore." 'Especially Brittany. I don't know why, but I keep getting the feeling that she's the worst off, and it's…it's my **responsibility** to make sure that nothing happens to her.' He thought the belief with utter conviction and to perfectly frank, it frightened him but he didn't let it show. He believed it though, and he needed neither outside nor an inside force, manipulation, presence, spirit or anything of the sort to tell him that, nor should they **EVER** to convince him otherwise.

Simon pondered what the secret to Brittany that Alvin was hiding. He was always one for a little espionage information but at least for now, he'd let it slide. "Alright. We won't tell them. But what about Theodore? He's in on this, and since he's already been a victim then he has a right to know what we do."

Alvin hemmed and hawed for a bit. "Yeah. We'll tell him. But we can't let anyone overhear, especially Dave. Maybe one of us will keep Dave occupied while the other talks to Theo."

"…"

"Si?"

"That sounds reasonable."

…

…

…

The two chipmunks were on the ball straightaway. To be perfectly clear, Alvin pretended to be his old inquisitive self while in Dave's space, touching this and that while asking irrelevant questions that was most certain to tick the man off while Blue told Green what was happening. When Alvin and Simon re-grouped in the chipette's suite, Alvin cut to the chase, but they were whispering. Fair enough.

"How'd he take the news?"

"I don't know how to describe it. With his current state of mind, he seemed to handle it pretty well. I have to admit, it is unlike him to be so moody and melancholic, and it appears that it has given him a lot of maturity with this sensitive information."

"And for some reason, I understood everything you just said, although I figure 'melancholic' to mean the same thing as 'moody',' Alvin answered sarcastically. "I'm worrying for him too. He hasn't been the same since we got him out of the hospital this morning. Come to think of it, Eleanor was the first to arrive and the doctor said on the recording that 'his current behavior is completely emotional'. Do think she did or said something to him?"

Simon paused to question this in thought. "Maybe. They weren't even acting like friends when we arrived. We'll have to worry about that later-"

"Worry about what?" A new voice asked.

Simon and Alvin nearly leapt out of their skins. "Holy crap! Don't sneak up on us like that! Why would you even think of trying something like that?!" Alvin all but yelled in 'righteous' anger.

Jeanette put her hands on her hips and Simon shivered discretely; there was a gesture that could possess the allure of a temptress or the disciplinary vibe of a stern mother but the chipette wore in a bit of a homely fashion. Although it was done innocently; in her own simple way, Jeanette was most exciting.

Simon quickly caught himself as he had seen her lips form words but he had heard no audible sound. "Excuse me?"

"Why were you two even in the closet?" She asked again in a curious-esque tone.

"Um…" Alvin trailed off. "Help me out, Simon."

"No good reason," the blue chipmunk responded straightforwardly, making his brother slap his own forehead in exasperation.

"I think I heard you say something along the lines about 'worrying about something later'. What's that all about?" Jeanette pressed. If there was one thing that Simon admired in the chipette, it was how unrelenting she was in diverse areas. Although it was completely unneeded at present.

"Oh, it's nothing you need to be concerned about." Simon grabbed his brother's arm. "Let's go." He led him away briskly as he waved to Jeanette. "Carry on as if this never happened."

The violet chipette could only shake her head in uncertainty as her crush left. 'Huh. Well, I need to do something for Simon. I think I'm getting through to him to appreciate natural things rather than those that are man-made. Hmm…maybe I could get him to write a poem with me. He has it in him to be linguistic in that fashion. Maybe I could even drop some hints that I like him…' A deep blush manifested itself on her face that hued it a new crimson. '…That I like him in _that way_.'

Suddenly, she snapped her fingers as she got a new idea. "I know, I'll run out to the park and get some pictures of some birds and such. I know that can work!"

 **=X=X=**

"I think I should learn how to play guitar."

"Whatever."

"Sometimes I feel like singing along and just dancing isn't enough."

"Whatever."

"I want to contribute to the music instead of just being on show. I want to **really** be a part of it."

"Whatever."

"You know, like Alvin."

"Whatever."

Brittany lost her patience. "Are you even listening?"

"Whatever," Eleanor answered in a tone that reeked of humdrum.

"What's up with you?! Ever since you went to the hospital, you've been acting strange. **You** and **Theodore** , in fact! What happened with you two?!" The auburn-haired chipette demanded.

"Nothing." Eleanor got up. "Absolutely nothing."

Brittany face-palmed with an extremely audible slap. "Knowing those two, I bet that their favorite cooking show got canceled or something. Or…I wonder if this has to do about last night?" She half-bit a finger in deep thought. "Damn…maybe they talked about it this morning. Who knows? Maybe Ellie shot him down or something."

"What the- Brittany, come quick!"

She heard her name being called from next door and her guess told her that it was Alvin who did it. She promptly got up from her easy chair and was out of her suite and next door in under twenty seconds. There, she found everyone else congregated there, even Valerie.

"Whoa, what's going on?"

"The TV!" Eleanor hissed. Immediately, Brittany turned her attention to the large High-Def television set mounted the wall and Valerie turned up the volume.

"… _the victim has been confirmed as one Salvatore Dumont of aforementioned address. The murder took place in Salvatore's apartment room at a confirmed 10:17 am earlier today. Salvatore, commonly known as 'Sal', was not killed in cold blood as earlier believed by residents who share the residential building, but instead, killed before he was able to defend himself. While there were no eyewitnesses, many admitted off-camera that they could hear what they believed it was in all actuality, a drug deal that went awry. Salvatore has had many assorted drug-related dealings in the past as indicated by his criminal records…"_

A picture of Salvatore's face came up on the screen and both Theodore and Eleanor had to bite back a gasp. "Holy shit!" Eleanor exclaimed.

For once, Dave let it slide. "You know him?"

"I-I-It's t-the guy who sold me the coffee!" Theodore stammered, much to everyone's shock. The green chipette walked up to the set and covered the man's eyes with her hand, making Theodore even more certain that it were him. "It's r-r-really h-him!"

"Well, I for one feel like doing some cartwheels," Eleanor stated with a relieved tone. "The guy's kicked the bucket-"

"Shhh!" Simon shushed. "Listen!"

The news report continued as the reporter turned to interview one of the forensic leaders on the scene. _"As you said earlier, the murder took place at 10:17 am, but that was merely when the first of the shots were fired. Some statements were taken by those who believed they could hear what was a payment for drugs, but the buyer was dissatisfied and killed Salvatore in reprisal. Salvatore would've been able to defend himself, but his own weapon went unfired, no doubt either he was taken by surprise or the weapon planted on his corpse in an effort to create false evidence. However, it is my belief that it's the former, because a man of Dumont's history is a near guarantee that he owns his own weapons. Salvatore suffered five shots to the chest, three of which took him in the heart and two in his left lung."_

" _Is there anything else you would like to say?"_ The reporter asked after the man's pause.

" _I believe that this murder was premeditated or the killer is no one new to the crime of killing."_ The man answered. _"The killer is even believed to have gotten away by leaving via the emergency exit and fire escape before leaving on a motorcycle, given from the sound of the engine. However, if anyone has any knowledge on the crime, the killer's identity or as to his whereabouts-"_

The television was abruptly turned off and everyone's attention swerved to Dave, spying the remote in his hand. "I think that's that. Apparently, Salvatore's karma caught up with him."

"And how!" Eleanor exclaimed. "His drugging days are over! How's that make you feel, Theo?" She asked eagerly.

Theodore's face was shadowed mysteriously by his hair but he spoke unhindered and very plainly. "He got what was coming to him, big sis."

Time froze for everyone as he said this.

All around, everyone was thinking that Theodore sounded vengeful, the fact that he called Eleanor his 'big sister' and the fact that the chipmunk sounded like a dark emo. None of these things were agreeable, not even the 'big sis' part.

"I don't know what's scarier," Brittany spoke first and that was after two minutes of complete silence. "The fact that the guy that poisoned Theodore got gunned down the day after or Theodore himself."

Simon studied Dave's reactions to all that had transpired. Dave looked hopeful, skeptical and worried all at the same time and Simon couldn't tell which was the most prominent or as to which situation they belonged. "Well, I guess we'll call it a night. I want everyone to go to bed early tonight because tomorrow, we're going to start practicing. I have a feeling that we might do more than just one concert here." 'Maybe I was paranoid before. I guess it was just an isolated incident.'

…

…

…

Alvin finally signed off from his texting with Brittany only a minute before he fell asleep. Almost promptly, he began to dream a bittersweet memory that he would've liked to keep restricted to a private and isolated corner in his mind.

 _He couldn't help but admire her as she slept. It was perverse of him, he knew, but he couldn't stop himself from doing so. Oh, how he loved how the lissome contours of her form were etched by the spread of the pink sheets laid over her. The mellow rise and fall of her developing bosom as she unconsciously performed the task of what he could now describe as the sensuous art of breathing. Then there was her face. He kept trying to tear his eyes away from her face and every time he was 'successful', his eyes would return to it bare seconds later. Although free of all makeup, she possessed a stark natural beauty that made him breathe in shorts._

 _He became considerably alarmed as her attractive face contorted into a frown. Now worrying that she was having a nightmare, he didn't know what to do to stop it. All of a sudden, she was sniffling and a tear ran from her eye. He patted it away with his handkerchief, but more came. Finally, in a brief state of a lack-of-thought, he got up from his seat to lean over her before he gently kissed her on the forehead. Although he could say that he enjoyed performing the act, he was even more joyful that the act worked as she visibly calmed down from her high and her lips formed a peaceful smile._

 _He couldn't help but smile himself. He was about to sit down again when common sense told him to continue standing-…he had been sitting for a while and it would do him some good to stretch. After five minutes, one thing led to another and he was soon rooting through the drawer of her desk and came upon only two items. One of them was a folded note and the other, a kitchen knife; very little observation was necessary to see that it was practically razor-sharp._

 _After reading the note, he became horrified as his mind raced at thousands of miles a minute. 'Oh my God! She wants to commit suicide?!'_

 _His head swiveled to the sleeping chipette. Hysterics had blurred the specifics from his focus, but he could place the key parts like 'no one cares', 'all my fault' 'Mom's dead because of me'. He even read his name in a paragraph told him that she 'cared for him' but that was it._

 _Another hour passed before he finally moved again. It was done to place the knife back downstairs where it belonged in the kitchen and to write his small addition to the note on the back._

 _I'll always be there for you, Brittany! I swear!_

 _He signed his name next to it before placing the note back where he found it._

…

…

…

" _You'll…wait…for me?"_

" _Uh huh," she answered. Within the next moment, she had her soft lips pressed against his cheek affectionately and during its entirety, it was all he could do to keep from blushing until he left the room, whereupon it flared up in an intense heat. Once outside the bedroom, however, he continued to ponder the implications of the kiss. He finally made it outside of the house and couldn't stop himself from looking up to her bedroom window. He saw her there and waved to her carefully and was thankful when he saw her mirror the gesture._

 _And he left, vowing that he would and keep to the oath he had made twice._

' _I'll always be there for you, Brittany…'_

 _It was thrice made and thrice as determined that he would_ _ **never**_ _go back on his word._

 **=X=X=**

Theodore didn't feel like sleeping. Certainly not after the day he's had. First, he gets shot down by the girl that possessed his dreams, second, he learns a startling truth about Miami from his brothers, third, he called Eleanor his 'big sister' and lastly, the man who poisoned him was getting ready for his final resting place.

No.

He watched his family sleep quite soundly and wondered how they took a full night's rest for granted. It had troubled him for so long, sleeping brokenly and now, it was all gone.

 _Clink!_

"Hmm?" He sat up from his bed with a start. Looking all around, he wondered what the matter was and where the sound came from before he heard it again.

 _Clink!_

"Wazzat?" Theodore got up and listened carefully. Although he no longer heard it, he determined that it had come from the hallway. Opening the door hesitantly, he saw someone fiddling with the card reader next to the chipette's suite door. Opening the door wider, he could only stare at the person slack-jawed and wondered what in the seven hells they were up to.

The person obviously sensed his presence before they stopped working. Carefully looking around to their observant, they saw the chipmunk gawking. Needless to say, a move akin to the speed of lightening had the green Seville reeling unconscious to the floor and a needled-syringe inserted into his neck.

With a final grunt of satisfaction, the attacker went back to work on the door. They had unfinished business here.

 **=X=X=**

Jeanette woke up with a yawn of satisfaction and slightly smacked her lips while taking up her glasses from a nearby bedside table and putting it on to see in a more pristine vision. She noted the time on the far wall. It was seven am, and she leaned over the side to get off of the bed. Looking to her sisters, she silently observed how Brittany was sound asleep in a dead-set comparison to Eleanor, who appeared to be distressed. Given by her previous theories, she guessed that it could have been some measure of guilt that she had garnered by refusing Theodore his 'belief' in loving her. She could only imagine what her younger sister was dreaming. Brittany, on the other hand, slept somewhat quietly but mumbled a bit every now and again. Jeanette had no inclination to listen more closely. Reasons being that it was none of her business and she needed to respect her sister's privacy, and the second that she had other (and better) things to do.

Quickly getting dressed with a loose fitting violet blouse and a denim shin-length skirt and crepe-soles, she grabbed her camera and her cell phone on the way out, ready to carry out her selfless ambition. Selfless as in done in an effort to make someone appreciate surreal splendor over corporeal concrete, but other than that, she was merely trying to convert him to her way of thinking. That in itself was slightly selfish; who was she to impose her own ideals on another person who had this own way of thinking?

She pulled up a route to the nearest park on her navigation app that came with her smartphone and soon, she was on her way to the park with a bit of a bounce in her step. Gaiety was the mood of the hour and the second born Miller chipette deduced that she was halfway there.

To be completely honest, she didn't see it, hear it or feel it. She just had this… _sense_ that something was too uniform about her journey to the park. The streets seemed to be leading in the right direction; she could even see the park in the distance. She was looking at her cell and it even had the perfect timing and distance right down to an accurate science; something was off.

She was walking on the left to face incoming traffic so that made it even more difficult. Perhaps what made it stand out was how much it was unnoticeable. The most recent 'edition' (2016) Honda Accord drove soundlessly on the right lane to the other side of the street. In the din of the early morning commute, its almost completely noiseless engine and traditional sedan design rendered it invisible, in the manner of everyone wearing the same thing, the one person in particular was difficult to find.

She still had no idea why she focused on that particular vehicle.

It was said that paranoia was not a 'real' feeling, but it has been dubbed as a sensation. The phenomenon held merit and credibility, for when you had it; you 'knew' that someone was watching/after you.

And the feeling was accurate 9,999 times out of 10,000.

In other words, she felt like she was practically being stared at by a person in that vehicle and not in the way a fan might. More like in the manner of a stalker. Come to think of it, didn't she see this vehicle not too long after she started out?

Worry set in most decidedly as she hurried now, cheerfulness evaporating from her walking gait like a puddle of water in the noonday sun. Whereas before she was practically skipping, she was now speed-walking.

And the vehicle's speed went up by a few miles or so.

She experimented by slowing down.

It mirrored the action.

'Well, I'm being followed, or this is a bizarre coincidence- Oh?' She observed it out of the corners of her eyes and saw it turn unto a side street into a parking garage. Now convinced that she had needlessly fretted for nothing, she went on her way to the park.

And yet somehow, she forgot the odds of how accurate paranoia was.

It was a pity. Truly a pity.

 **Well, you never know if I'm messing with you or if it's true. I seem to recall a moment when Eleanor thought Brittany was kidnapped. For shame! But is Jeanette REALLY safe?**

 **Anyway, that's it. USA drives on the right? Well, let me tell you this, if you ever try that out here in Jamaica, they're going to be hosing you off the pavement.**

 **This chapter was to reveal Alvin's 'closeness' to Brittany and his devotion to her. He read her planned suicidal note so he 'knows' that she doesn't hate him. But as we all know, he's having denial issues. Coupled along with that, it shows why he could stay with her for a whole summer and beat a mugger to the 30** **th** **of February, which we all know does not exist. Eleanor is having some slight guilt issues but everyone will be with everyone, don't you worry! Anyway, that's it. Now, I really mean it. By the by, it's only one update this time; I have other obligations.**

 **Valete omnes,**

 **MRAY 4TW.**


	15. Chapter 15

**AATC: Territory**

 **Sunday, May 08, 2016.**

 **It's been a good period of planning. Here we go. As for the Guest, I'd appreciate it if you made an account; it'd give me a profile to pm my replies to. But while this AN lasts, let me just say thanks for the review(s) and for the compliments that lie therein.**

 **Enjoy, everyone.**

 **15.**

"…And that's the last one."

Jeanette snapped the photo of the lark sparrow, startling it while it was preening itself. Although she was reluctant to see it disturbed, due in no small part to her actions, she was eager to get home and show her pictures to Simon. She wasn't about to give up on helping to convince him to leave behind his literal and corporeal natures but nonetheless hoped that she was going about it the right way.

'Not to mention I still need to find a way to tell him about my feelings.'

She had a feeling that Eleanor and Theodore must've talked in the hospital; the very same discussing their feelings to one another. None of them appeared very happy right now so she had a right to fret that what she wanted to do would blow up in her face. But the pressure of just going through with it was getting to be too much for her to bear; she herself might explode instead if she didn't do something about it.

She either needed to fully acknowledge her feelings and to tell him…or reject them and bury them so deeply that she'd forget them so they'd be lost. By the way things were going, she needed to make up her mind before her contemporary halfway point became too stagnant and made up her own mind for her.

She knew herself to be knowledgeable. Both she and Simon, that is. He, nevertheless, was clever, shrewd, and nearly downright sly when he needed to, not to mention being prideful. Jeanette knew that this blight sometimes got the best of her as well and it was made plain in their dealings to enhancing their vocabularies with over-the-top words, inventing new advancements and the like when they were around others. While she was 'humble', (it could have been prideful to 'boast' that one was humble), the truth was that she wasn't all that humble. She only lacked confidence from time to time, had a demure tone and she never really had it in her to use sarcasm as much as Simon.

If only…

"~The science of the heart is sometimes lost on me…~" **(1)** Jeanette mumbled rhythmically, shocking her own self. It came out in a rich alto-like tune, and she wondered what it could mean. In fact, she retreated to a park bench and she kept at it, almost like a one-lined song.

"~The science of the heart is sometimes lost on me…~" She sang it again, and even louder. "What is it that I like about Simon? Reason enough to love him?"

It only took a single second before tens of reasons, hundreds, thousands of reasons why she loved Simon ran amok in her mind.

 _I appreciate his suggestions which helps me to make difficult decisions._

 _His thoughtfulness is a delight to receive._

 _I feel so happy and relaxed when I'm with him._

 _His wisdom has saved me._

 _I can be me when I'm with him._

 _I love that he knows me so well._

 _Seeing us in pictures together makes me smile._

 _Seeing him smile makes me smile._

 _He's all the company I'd need for life._

 _He's the most amazing person I've ever been blessed to know._

And those were merely the first ten.

She was still thinking about her reasons while still humming her former rhythmic for an indeterminate period of time. All she can be sure was that she stopped when she felt something on her shoulder. She nearly jumped in a startle but it was a good thing she hadn't. If she had, she would have scared away her guest.

A mountain bluebird had alighted on her shoulder.

The first educated question would be as to why a bird, as 'cautious' as this particular creature could get, would land on her shoulder and remain there. The second educated question was why a mountain bluebird could be so far out of its place of habitat, that is, away from the western side of the country and to the East. The last educated question was why it could be all the way in Miami, Florida in the summer when it only migrated in the fall.

But those questions were overridden by the joy of having a bird on her shoulder, having defied so many odds to even be in the same State as her and to be…well, a stark blue thrush that echoed similarities to Simon, just as she was thinking about him, not to mention her feelings for the chipmunk.

She fully turned her head and gazed intently at it, observing it as she did most birds. She could tell that it was a male; the females were gray overall with blue wings, but the males were all blue, save for the whitish under-tail coverts. It was a brilliant blue: blue wings, blue head, and blue back. The throat and breast area were of a paler blue and currently, the bird's head was indicated to point straight ahead by the beak…which meant that the bird was staring at her with only one eye; it was basic bird head mechanics.

It was a sign. It had to be.

"Hmm…I…I think I'll call you Simon. You remind me of him," She whispered to it gently. She was confident that it would stay for as long as it wished and Jeanette doubted that her actions would affect it little.

The bird whistled lowly as if in agreement. Delighted, Jeanette took up her camera again in hand and outstretched it in the arm of her other side. Carefully, she angled it to face herself and snapped a selfie of herself and the bird on her shoulder.

 _*Click!*_

The bird stayed, and as she went back to the image, she could have sworn that the bird had slightly angled the direction of its beak to make it show as if it were smiling as she was. Happily, she told it a 'thank you' and the bird tweeted again before flying off to who-knows-where.

As she watched it fly off, the rhythmic line returned and it now felt as if it really were the line of a song.

"~The science of the heart is sometimes lost on me~…

But I'm following this feeling!~"

She went through it twice more and felt her confidence and her determination grow with each repetition. She was going to tell him. As a matter of fact, she was telling him as soon as she saw him.

With that thought in mind, she left the park and set off back to the hotel, the very way which she came.

…

…

…

She was walking along briskly, a chipette reborn. Oh yes, she was gonna tell him…even if she had to yell it into his face. Resolution was hers, and although she never had it in her to be confidence-excessive like Alvin, she had the utmost of intentions to tell him.

'One way or another. I've kept it from him for too long…A mountain bluebird finds its way onto my shoulder, defying millions of odds and ending-possibilities. It's a sign. Even if he doubts it, I'll show him the picture.'

…

She felt it.

The same paranoia.

Looking around, she didn't see anything.

After a noisy exhale, she shook off the feeling and continued, a smile on her face as she coasted on the wave of happy and eager-esque emotions. In fact, Jeanette had no idea that it was coming…closer…closer…closer…

Closer…

Her phone rang. But instead of her usual ringtone of herself singing 'When I'm Home' **(2)** , it was that of a song she overall knew, but she was completely certain that she did not have it on her phone; as a ringtone, even more in a negative.

 **(3)** ~ _Every breath you take…~_

 _~Every move you make…~_

 _~Every bond you break…~_

 _~Every step you take…~_

The violet Miller was badly disturbed at this and removed the phone from her hip-pocket and stared at the caller ID, incredulous. It didn't display a number, but it did display a name…sort-of.

 _1 want 2_ _セーブ_ _the 6_

 _~I'll be watching you…~_

The song made no logic and relevance to her, and the song even more so. But as her feelings of paranoia returned in full force, the song couldn't have been more eerie. Falling into a state of non-thinking, she uneasily picked up the call and placed the phone against her ear.

"H-h-hello?"

" _Hello, Jeanette."_

The voice came off as a sound that came off as completely hexafluoride and plain computerized bass and if she was disturbed before, now she was definitely scared. "W-who is this? H-h-how do you know my name? How do you have m-my n-n-number?"

" _My name is mine to know. But you…I know everything about you, Jeanette. I know who you are, what you are, when all your times occur and where you've ever been. But the question that begs to be asked is…how are you?"_

She had no idea why she entertained the notion of listening to this person and the tone felt condescending and friendly at the same time, had it not been for the plainness. "I-I-I-I'm fine," she stuttered. "But **who** are you?"

" _Currently, I don't know who I am. I'm like your personal information…measured in gigabytes worth of information of your background and profile. Hmm…it seems that all of your details can be contained on a small grade gigabyte USB stick, and have enough storage space for some media…it's amusing how much one's worth is. But as for your condition, I can see that you're fine."_

Jeanette's head swiveled around as she came to a full stop. "W-where are you?"

" _I'm far away, and yet looking over your shoulder."_

Jeanette looked behind her fearfully, but all she saw was the thinning bustle of people. None stood out to her.

" _My position is fixed, yet I'm always moving. I can see, but I have no peripheral vision. In the country of sight, the one-eyed are kings…"_

Jeanette registered the riddle and turned it over in her mind. 'Hmm…always moving, but remains in one place. Sees, but has no peripheral vision. That's next to impossible, for every organism with sight has it. In order to not have peripherals, you'd have to have an eye that's completely shaded on all sides so it has to stare out straight ahead. And…everyone else has vision, I suppose? This person or thing has one eye and yet proclaims to be superior…'

Her eyes widened as she glanced up at the wall a few meters up. There was a camera there.

It was a typical camera, there to record all it saw. But what made it superior, on fact, were the numbers. She never pegged it to be such an invasion of privacy, but cameras were everywhere. Traffic, security, corners, alley ways, they were all over. Paranoia…completely justified.

" _Judging from how you're staring at the camera, you've guessed the answer to the riddle. Nonetheless, my intentions confuse me, and yet they are lucid. No one can fill my shoes. This is not a riddle, my friend. What this is, however, is a warning."_

"Go home?" She guessed.

" _Indeed. Go home. I'm not telling you the message. Rather, like your friend Theodore, you're supposed to learn it."_

This sounded like a threat and Jeanette told the person so. The mystery individual chuckled at this and assured her that-

" _You have nothing to fear from me. But what you should know, is that anyone who controls the technological aspects controls…evidence. Everything revolves around technological progress. How and why do you think the person who killed Salvatore got away? I erased the footage."_

"I'll tell the police," The Miller stated sternly.

" _And tell them what? That you got an unrecorded phone call from a person whose ID and contact information does not exist, who informed you that they practically control which criminal gets away with what in the city?"_

"Yes. I have good credibility. I bet even Simon could even-"

" _Do what? Find me? Track me? Figure out who I am? All of that's hopeless. If he's got a brain the size of all the eastern states, I've got a brain the size of the U.S of A. You're just fortunate that my heart's even bigger."_

Jeannette had completely calmed down and tried to analyze the situation. She hoped that she could get some damning info on the person, but the person had made no mistake. All the 'slip-ups' were deliberate. "What do you really want? Why-"

" _At ease. You know the warning. I've even told you. Go home. Theodore's learned the lesson. It's your turn. I'll be speaking to you only, and merely when I feel like it. Currently, I feel like telling you about a certain vehicle. You've noticed it already."_

Jeanette remembered it well. The car she could have sworn was-

" _I won't be telling you of its business with you. But if there's one thing you should know, is that this conversation we're having…it does not exist…if you try to_ _ **inform**_ _anyone of its existence…well…take a look at the intersection behind you."_

She complied, and observed the red stoplights snap to green…

While the intercrossing lights were flashing green as well.

What then occurred was a melee of cars crashing together with the bone-jarring and spine-shivering sounds of car-screeches, glass shattering and metal snapping and crunching as six or so vehicles collided into each other, meeting in t-bone crashes with sudden stops. If there weren't even two deaths in the scrum, it'd be a miracle.

Jeanette gasped at the man-made disaster as the spectacle unfolded into a nightmarish outcome. A massive television used for adverts that resided on the side of a business building had the advertisement switch to a fully black screen which had the words-

 _1 want 2_ _セーブ_ _the 6: Would you care for another demonstration?  
_ Jeanette screamed into the phone in horror, but no one paid her any attention as all focused on the car collision roughly a block down. The message on the jumbo screen then switched back to the advertisement of generic fast-food at 'reasonable prices'.

"NO!"

" _Goo_ _d girl. If something has a computer chip, I could probably kill someone with the device…even a cell phone…I could make even make your phone try to pull more power from the battery and make the power-cell explode. That could deafen you and injure your ear at the very least. At the worst, the shrapnel could just…well, it's your head. There's need for me to get graphic. Anyway, I hope you live long enough to tell Simon that you love him and by the way, I like your selfie. It's very becoming, and the bird on your shoulder gives it a hitherto to be seen unique look. I'll be in touch."_

And with that, the person 'hung up'. She took the phone from her ear and stared at it stupidly. While she saw the ID, the phone call data told her that the call had lasted for 00:00:00.

The call had 'not' even lasted a full second, when it had felt to be around five minutes. With a groan, Jeanette had to support herself against a nearby wall to keep herself from collapsing in shock. As she tried to gather her bearings, she saw an incoming text on her phone and noted that it was from the same person that she had correctly reasoned to be a hacker.

 _1 want 2_ _セーブ_ _the 6: The car's behind you. What will you do?_

She glanced behind her and saw the vehicle from earlier pull its way from behind the jumble of disfigured cars. It was only a block away but as she saw its approach, she jabbed her phone into her pocket, tightened the strings of her camera around her neck and of her glasses, and then proceeded to run for her life.

The driver of the Honda Accord was determined not to be left behind as they stomped the accelerator in pursuit of the chipette.

 **=X=X=**

"Well, I'm worried. I've got a right to be, Alvin. It's probably the same way that you've gotten over-protective of Brittany."

"Me…over-protective? I wouldn't put it that way, Si. But the way you're fussing about, it's like-"

"I've got a bad feeling, Alvin. It's this feeling. It feels like premonition."

"And what the heck does that mean?" Alvin asked, not too sure if he had more curiosity than desire to **not** know the answer.

The blue Seville hesitated visibly, extremely reluctant to say the definition. "It's the anticipation or **belief** that something is going to happen. Usually something bad."

"Bah," his elder brother nearly spat. "I know about your crush on-"

"Alvin…" Simon intoned in a low lone but Alvin was only slightly perturbed as he continued nonetheless.

"Whatever. You're just overreacting."

"The same way you nearly killed a man by putting dents into his skull and breaching his ribcage because of how you reacted to Brittany's situation?" Simon's sarcasm-laced comment was accompanied with a smirk and he was pleased to see that it had thrown Alvin off.

"Will I ever hear the end of that?" Alvin moaned aloud. Simon responded with a 'nope' as he pushed up his glasses farther up his nose with an index. "Why don't you just call her?"

"Hmm…good idea."

 **=X=X=**

Jeanette heard her phone ring as she ran at a pace only a bit better than a jog. She ignored it in favor of keeping her stride and momentum and continued. She had no idea when, why or how it came to be, but she had been driven off of her course through alleys to evade it through inoperable spaces, some distance away she presumed to be west of the hotel.

'Oh no, oh no, oh no…'

The vehicle maneuvered its way around the heavy obstacles like dumpsters and smashed through the lighter ones like ordinary trashcans without hesitation. Slowly but surely, the front of the vehicle's front was transforming a nasty outbreak of plastic and metal acne damage, but apparently, the driver didn't seem to mind as it pummeled it's way through debris after the fleeing singer.

'Oh no, oh no, oh no!'

She recalled seeing a couple of videos of Alvin performing parkour and bitterly envied how he made running, dodging, vaulting and traversal look so easy. It'd come in handy right now, she believed as she was forced to go over obstacles like wooden crate supports and lost considerable speed because of it, not to mention nearly tripping to sprawl on the asphalt.

'What do I do, what do I do, what do I do?!' She screamed mentally at herself. 'What do they want with me?!'

Glancing behind her at the car, she noted the license plate but instead of a registration number on it, all she could were the letters 'YR', the drawing of a head with no face, the letter 'h' and the picture of an ear, all in a linear order. She returned her attention back in front of her and realized that it was a rebus…the meaning was frighteningly clear.

 **Your head here.**

Well, at least she knew the driver's intentions. That, however, did not make it any easier on her psyche as she continued running to preserve her life.

'An angry letter would've been enough…' She thought with stark clarity. Absently, she realized that the thought sounded exactly like something Simon would say and she actually smiled for a second before she made a sudden right turn into another gangway, trying to throw the vehicle off. It didn't work and unfortunately, she had met up into a dead end. It wasn't that of a straight wall, but that of an intercrossing fence.

Her sudden turn had bought her some time as the Honda roared past the turn like a machine beast that had yet to realize its blunder, but it wouldn't last as she heard what must've been the driver curse bitterly and explicitly as the vehicle screeched to a halt far beyond.

Quickly hooking her fingers into the intercross fence, she pulled herself up and immediately felt her weak physicality before she even reached halfway. 'How does Alvin do this so easily?'

'Cause you're a girl,' the thought came as if in a reply. 'And you're basically a geekish weakling.'

"Common sense recognizing the obvious is cruel…" Jeanette muttered cynically as her muscles threatened to give out as she grasped the top of the fence. As she tried to swing her lower torso over, she heard the beeps of a car in reversal and the vehicle reappeared in view. It was then a simple matter as the driver angled itself into the alleyway she was currently in and accelerated once more.

Self-preservation fuelled her drive to pump willpower and oxygen to her muscles, giving her the strength to crest the fence at last and fall with a tumble on the other side with a pained slam, hurting her side to some extent.

"Agh!" She clenched her teeth and tried to bear through the ache as she got up and was off again, thinking desperately of a way out of her disastrous predicament. 'I need to escape! How? How?!'

She ran and limped, ran and limped, ran and limped, ran and limped…

And the car crashed right through the fence and kept on in the chase after her.

If her situation was horrible before, now, it had gotten quartered and sent to hell to roast and returned to her as a platter full of crap.

Ran and limped…ran and limped…-…ran and limped…-…-…she was slowing down due to pain and fatigue.

Her cell phone came alive again, but instead of ringing in her pocket, it 'spoke'. It was in the very same hexafluoride tone from before and all it 'said' was 'fire escape'. She acknowledged it for what it was, that is, a suggestion. It wasn't too long that she spied one with a ladder low enough and she barely reached in time and clambered unto it, ignoring the ache in her side until she got to the first level. And there she huddled in a corner away from the ladder to the wall where the escape was built against, trembling as she saw the car brake to a gradual stop past her location in a mind-grating screech. She stared at the rear license plate now and it plainly had the words 'Go Home' on it, not to mention the large cardboard sign in the rear-windshield that also carried the same message.

Shivering as her adrenaline ran dry, the car honked in frustration before it revved alive again and drove out of the alley and was gone in a minute or two. Jeanette, however, stayed there in trepidation, praying that the worst was over.

And yet fearing that the worst was yet to come.

 **This chapter could use some more content. But uh, let's not spoil a dramatic moment. Anyway, time for those pesky numbers.**

 **1- The song that came to her mind…I'm not spoiling it yet. However, it'd serve me well to disclaim ownership of it. I don't own the line, or the song.**

 **2- 'When I'm Home'. This song I borrowed from the AATC show currently on Nickelodeon. It's from the episode that shows how the chipettes came to take up residence in Mr. Crabble's tree, me thinks. I don't remember the name of the episode. Don't try to sue me, I guess?**

 **3- The song for the Hacker's ringtone is called 'Every Breath you Take' by 'The Police'. Weird band name, I know. But then again, we've tolerated names like Disturbed, Thousand Foot Krutch and…meh, I'd better stop talking.**

 **There's no theme in general for this chapter but I want to say that I loved playing Watch Dogs. I really did. The hacker isn't based on anyone in the game, but the hacking done in the game inspired this chapter quite a bit. The hacker is an OC, but I've been dropping a few hints that such a person existed. Furthermore, this person is the last OC you need to keep track of. Everyone else is basically story filler.**

 **Overall, this chapter was messy, (I type after bed-hours) it could have gone better but I think it's actually above decent. Believe me, cause I'm seeing a lot of red and green underlines; I'll edit it to the best of my ability before letting you read it. Don't forget to leave a review if you'd like to comment (This is a choice) or if you spot a mistake (this is mandatory). I'd appreciate it.**

 **Valete omnes,**

 **MRAY 4TW.**


	16. Chapter 16

**AATC: Territory**

 **It seems that I won't be able to work on big chapters of other stories at...my institution. That'll have to wait for home. In the meantime, I'll work on this. Enjoy everyone.**

 **Guest reviewer #1: MAY 15, 2016**

 **I believe that you can figure out certain elements of a plot based on clues given in my writing and the times in which they occur. For example, one could deduce that you're not reading the fic from a PC. You haven't made any spelling errors, but you have written/typed two or so words twice, such as 'very' and 'reply'. You're not seeing what you're actually typing, and the autocorrect on such devices allow you to choose the word that you wish to use.**

 **So, it's probably an app on your phone. I've been in the Playstore, so I can confidently state that you're probably using the Fanfiction app done by SpicyMango, and not really any of the others because they 'allow' 'premium service' if you rate it five stars. But that content is mainly for people with accounts, which you don't have. As for your gender, that was a bit difficult.**

 **It may be stereotypical of me to say that females are more than likely to write fics for this fandom, but I'm a guy, so…**

 **I'm 75% sure that you're a male.**

 **Of course, I may be far from right, but to be honest, I doubt it. So I find it even viable that you could try to dig a little deeper in the fic, try to connect some dots in the meantime and…and…**

 **I'm starting to ramble.**

 **Guest reviewer #2: MAY 17, 2016 (Sherlespeare)**

 **Sorry if you believe I'm cruel for practically leaving 75% of my endings on cliffhangers. I hope it's not a growing habit of mine. Also, thank you for all the compliments you've left in the review. Furthermore, they're good morale boosters but that's not the reason I want reviews presently.**

 **I want to be able to write a spotless fanfic, one that's free of all spelling, grammatical, plot and every kind of errors. But I'm human, so I'm hoping that all of your eyes will spot the ones I miss. It'll be a good standard to live up to, and you'll be able to have yourself to thank when future readers come along and say: "Wow, that fic is immaculate." I'm taking example from an AATC writer who went by the name of C.T.11, who wrote immaculate fics in the early 2000 years. This writer had me going for a dictionary every now and again to learn an new word and let me tell you something...I am always probing fics for spelling and grammatical errors. Even after the posting of this particular chapter, I've edited it twice now, this being the second time. Dedication? Yes. Crazy? Maybe. C.T.11 set an example, and I'm merely trying to follow.**

 **16.**

She could feel goose bumps rising on her flesh in the cool morning air. That, however, was not the original reason as to why the happening was taking place; it was that of fear slithering along her spine like a creeping shadow, making her sweat beads of liquid ice. She was afraid.

And who wouldn't?

She had nearly gotten run over, for heaven's sakes! She nearly died! She was nearly killed!

Nearly, nearly, nearly…

It was said that the 'almost words' like 'nearly, almost, so-close, virtually and practically' were bashed often, as they meant that whatever that was supposed to take place almost came true, but didn't.

Nearly killed wasn't the same as actually being killed.

Being of a higher cognition level than most, Jeanette knew this perfectly. But for all of her smarts, she may as well have been unconscious because she could hardly think straight. All she kept seeing was that rebus license plate: 'Your HEAD here.' Did that person really mean to kill her? Or was it just a 'warning' that almost went awry?

These and more questions of the like plagued her being...and so she remained on the 'higher and safer' fire escape, scared and alone.

 **=X=X=**

Alvin was no dunce. He only _seemed_ that way when he was set next to/compared to his blue-wearing brother who had a staggering IQ. In comparison, it was only a matter of speaking that he would appear as a lesser when his brother was so much an intellectual genius.

He could see the signs. His brother was becoming a worrywart. It was no small wonder who he was fretting about; it was Jeanette. Besides, he was talking about her only a bare half-hour ago.

He (Alvin) was a lot like that…in fact, he was still like that.

During that emotional summer, he used to worry if Brittany was still alive, and if she would be if he ventured home to sleep at nights so he could return the next morning. He had seen the rather large knife that night, and the note that had accompanied it. He would much rather try to forget that; right now, his brother needed some help, the only kind that could and should come from a big brother.

He was about to speak up, but Valerie who came over to see Dave a few minutes earlier did so instead, raising a bit of an alarm to those present that they should 'look!'

It was only Alvin, Simon in the room at the time and no one else heard; Dave was in the shower and the remaining chipettes were in their own suite. Theodore was also knocked out by sleep in the next room, so he would also be a no-show. Alvin merely raised an eyebrow in skepticism so he sat and stayed where he was, while Simon obliged, hoping for a distraction for his fraying nerves. He knew the truth of this city from the info exploit on Dave and the Doctor; that someone or plural in fact, were out to make them leave. If they were willing to poison, what other barbarious means would they use?

"What is that person doing?" Valerie asked herself.

Simon overheard her and answered as he approached. "Who is doing what?"

Valerie looked troubled all of a sudden so that did nothing good for Simon's current mood. "Um…never mind."

The blue Seville became almost completely exasperated. "First you make a scene for us to come look, and now you don't want us to?"

"The moment's gone," Valerie muttered. Simon, by now had reached the window and peered outside for himself. To Alvin, it was as if he had done a slightly comical double-take before his brother gasped aloud. Scenting trouble in the air, Alvin sauntered over and looked far below at whatever was the most eye-catching at the moment.

"What are you guys looking at-… What is-" He shushed himself in a growing silence as the three watched what appeared to be a badly used but-brand-new Honda Accord doing drifting donuts around a large painted caption on the asphalt. The caption had been spray painted in blood-red, block letters and it read:

 _GO HOME_

They all looked to each other worriedly, each feeling a swelling of trepidation and fear rising in their throats, minds racing to the beat of the potential complications. But none were worse that of Simon at that very moment, knowing that his significant other was abroad in the streets.

"Simon?"

His name was in fact called a number of times, before his elder brother had to shake by the shoulders to get his attention, although he still stared outside far below at the car that had just ceased it's frenetic activity as the driver stepped out, pressed the horn a few times, seemed to have flipped all the bird before re-entering his vehicle and sped off. The words were still there, though, haunting Simon as his mind fled.

With a mind as gifted as his, he was cursed with the imagination that came with it. In spite of his spiked IQ, nonsense became his comforter, thinking into being all sorts of fates for Jeanette and none of them pleasant.

He just stood there, akin to that of a statue.

He was watching the scene still downstairs, not even really noticing that someone came and kicked a bucket of black paint over the words, no doubt a compliment of Hotel staff who couldn't afford a possible insult to their guests. Most likely, other races in the hotel would think it was for them, and take it as an affront. Little did they know they had practically gotten rid of evidence, but the damage was already done, especially to the blue Seville.

"Oh my God!" Simon virtually screamed as he clutched his head. "Jeanette! I've got to-" He was like a dead man now alive, writhing and barrelling his way to the door and somehow, Valerie believed that he would have literally gone right _through_ it, if it had been locked at the time. Simon had just enough sense to yank it open using the knob, and was off like a shot as he nearly tore a hole in his pants to get his cell out of his pocket.

He didn't hear yells to wait.

He didn't look where he was going.

He didn't pay attention to people in his way.

He was like a force of nature, practically blazing his own path to find the love of his life. He was like one unstoppable, powered by worry and made strong in the forge of endearment.

His wild fingers typed the chipette's phone number so quickly that the phone itself had trouble keeping up with the data punched in. At that point, it began to ring, each ring sounding more of a death-knell than anything else.

 **=X=X=**

Jeanette was in no better frame of mind and decided that she needed to talk to someone. Someone who could provide some measure of reason to this madhouse of a world they were now occupying, hoping that she herself would and could stay sane. It was no small wonder that such a person that she decided to call was the one she had held feelings for almost as long as she'd known him, and was basically the one she had admitted had been tailor made for him. She tailor made for him, even.

Custom made by a higher being for each other, and that's what mattered.

She kept looking over her shoulder for anyone about, or anything (like a camera) spying on her as her paranoia increased again. Angst flooded her nerves with feelings of anxiety, making her have to carefully take her time to input Simon's phone number (one of the few things she held in memory with a fierce dedication) and then tried to call, looking about nervously.

 **=X=X=**

"I'm not reaching her phone!" Simon felt like crying, but chose not to. "Why is she not answering? How can it be 'busy'?" He called again, and again, and again, not even realizing that she was doing the same.

And ever so slowly, each's current feelings and assorted emotions increased in their own manners, one became more and more anxious and the other, disheartened.

And then Jeanette's phone battery died, cutting her off from any further attempts pf communication.

 **=X=X=**

They had left the room, seeking some alone time to gather their thoughts. The hacker immediately went to their computer and sat before it, pulling up an application window to watch the city as they always did.

'I've been doing this for a long time. I'm not that old, but I've been doing this all of my life. That's been a long time, I suppose.'

With a heavy sigh, the hacker pulled up another application window that had a camera watching the intersection. Wordlessly, they watched as paramedics finally pulled off with the last of the crash victims, and the sirens were on, fully alerting all to steer clear. The hacker's mood lifted a bit. That was a good sign. That means that no one died. There was a need to get injured to the hospital in a hurry, but there was never a haste to get dead people there to be pronounced.

The hacker…disliked killing, but was not above it. Well, they'd do it, but always regretted it. The hacker used to have friends, used to have enemies, used to have acquaintances. Now, they had people behind them. Below ground, that is.

And the hacker regretted those things.

It was by far the EASIEST way to rule the city. Not the singers. Not the gangs, not the police, not the politicians.

It was a new age. As the Good Book says (the Bible), 'knowledge shall increase.'

So it did. So it did. It wasn't about who could run the city. It wasn't about how big the crime was. It was all about who could get away with what. Gangs could kill, police officers could beat people to death with batons, politicians could embezzle money, singers could rally people with message-filled songs but everything all came back to technology.

From a very young age, binary code and command prompts came easier than learning the English language itself. The hacker could memorize things from even a single reading. Computers were their only friends, and that earned them nothing but scorn. It did not make them any enemies, but there was always a bully in every school. The usual. Getting picked on in predictable ways and so on. But the hacker had NO FRIENDS.

So no one to eat lunch with them, walk to school and back home with, no one to trade notes with.

But now, it was all paying off.

'It's me who really runs this city. I could go anywhere, do whatever I want. Then why am I working with these asshole and his substandard gang? I could kill them anytime I want! I hate them! I have no reason to work with them!'

Ravin' Raven and his underground posses and ruffians? The hacker loved them about as much as a good, solid kick in the teeth. And yet, here they were, working with them.

It was like a choice that hinted a threat, but at the time, the hacker had no other options. So the hacker signed on. It was better that way. After all, if you were living in Miami, you had to either get on the bus or get run over by it. She chose to get out of the way, and by default, she got on board.

Wiping evidence, causing car-crashes, regularly collecting information and blackmail exploits, turning electrical meters to become proximity explosives, causing blackouts, just like any other day.

The hacker hated them. So very much.

If it weren't for them (Ravin Raven and his crooks), all she'd (Hacker) do was siphon a million dollars or something from a bank and just live a normal life without working for the rest of their lives. They had no need for a barbaric or lavish lifestyle. Just…drawing a large pension all at once, play some video games, perhaps go back to school to better herself at learning the right things correctly, read a book or two. That was it.

But those plans for such a lifestyle burned the same night they splurged on a night out; a typical weekend.

Should've taken a taxi. Instead, she didn't. She'd no idea how long she drove, how she drove, where she drove; alchohol addled the mind and the senses. In fact, the hacker didn't even fully realize the gravity of their own actions until they woke up in a myriad of crunched metal and shattered glass.

The hacker felt a tear well up, before angrily brushing it away. The other car had innocents, undeserving of suffering because of her own mistakes. Victims of circumstances well out of their own control.

The hacker decided to re-focus their attention on the second born chipmunk and chipette. 'Hmm…this is feeling like a love story at the movies. Aww…'

It was very touching…and sad. Like two lost loves trying to contact each other but couldn't, as they were both trying to at the same time. This needed some intervention.

The hacker watched the cursor on the computer blink repeatedly, awaiting instruction. Then ever so slowly, fingers started to type, the owner keeping in mind that they had to work quickly. They were not alone in the building; interruptions were sure to happen.

 **=X=X=**

Simon wandered hither and yon, almost pacing a rut in the sidewalk as he fretted while walking. The chipmunk had left more than just a few voice-mails in his efforts to reach her phone. This hadn't helped him at all, least of all his imagination, envisioning all sorts of fates even worse than before; it had degenerated due to her phone most likely lost, shut off or having a dead battery.

Or the phone was stolen when she was robbed, or she was kidnapped, or she was killed-

"No!" Simon outright yelled at the thought to force it away from his mind. In the process, those close by to him, passers-by backed up more than just a few steps from the Seville, unsure of his mental state. In fact, he was actually close to losing his mind. SO CLOSE…

 **=X=X=**

The hacker gazed at the camera feed of Simon as he paced the streets, people there giving him a wide berth. 'Simon, huh? I never expected this from him. Maybe Alvin, but not him. Does every chipmunk act like this when the ones they love are in danger? Makes me wish that a guy would act that way over me. In all actuality, Simon doesn't need to worry. But he doesn't know that. Jeanette just…hmm…what is she doing?'

The hacker returned to her work, deciding to check up on the chipette.

 **=X=X=**

Jeanette stared glumly at the dead phone, wondering how she was supposed to get into contact with Simon now. 'Oh well…'

That made her feel kinda… _dead_ inside.

She was fully aware why. What she wanted to know, if it was her fault, or Simon's. If he had just answered when she called, or hers for even venturing out of the house when she knew (Read: Had a **strong** feeling) they were being targeted. What she saw on the license plate only added more proof to that.

She felt a tiny bit disappointed. Not that she wanted someone to come to her rescue, she just wanted someone (him) to talk to, and he wasn't there. If he wasn't here when she wanted him, then it means that he wasn't there for _her._

He used to say that he would always be what she wanted when she needed it the most, and he had never disappointed on that claim. But right now, she wanted/badly-needed companionship, and he was abroad.

"Where are you Simon?" Jeanette bemoaned.

She could feel pains and aches spread through her body like a cancer. Her previous exertions and efforts were not forgotten, and neither were her mistakes and blunders in traversal; especially that in her side. But the worst one was that in her chest, and she believed that it was more emotional than physical. Well, it had been her idea to venture out alone, but she did that to help Simon past his concrete ideals. It was an act of-

"Love, huh?" Jeanette felt like laughing. Not in scorn, but that of mirth. She could feel the pain react negatively in response, reminding her that she still need to pay the price-

"For what? For trying to do the right thing? I'd do it again." She sincerely felt that way. "If only I had a way to tell Simon where to find me. Since I may have banged my ankle too hard trying to climb up, I may be stuck here a while, not just because of my own mentality, currently."

She gazed around once more and saw a camera that she must've missed in her previous endeavours to find one to avoid. Now, she badly wanted to see one. She had an idea, and hoped to appeal to the hacker's apparent better natures. After about a minute or two, she spied one that had been focused on her. She waved to it, and swore that she could sense the device zoom in from its point of view.

 **=X=X=**

"Well, she sees it," the hacker mumbled. "Is that a good thing or a bad one?"

The hacker watched as the chipette wave even more frantically. 'Hmm…it's not just to get my attention. She's talking, but there's no mic. I'll need to read her lips. It's a good thing I decided to hone the skill. I wonder…'

The hacker dialled in the phone number on the computer and prepared her headset. To her surprise, the phone turned up to be dead, meaning that it was unreachable. She could use it for 'sound reverberation' to relay messages, but other than that, nothing could really be done on that end.

'Oh well. Time to read lips.'

And that the hacker did.

 **=X=X=**

Simon heard his phone ring and yanked it out of his pocket. Staring at the number, it said 'unknown', but that only served to make him even more angst in his emotions. He picked up the call, though.

"Hello? Who is this?"

"Hello Simon."

If he had been a 'lesser' chipmunk, Simon would have dropped the phone out of plain fear. As it were, he nearly threw it away out of fear of something terrible transpiring where Jeanette was concerned. Fortunately, his determination carried him through when he heard the hexafluoride bass of a voice answer the phone.

"Who are you? How do you know my name?"

"Irrelevant. Follow the signs if you want to see Jeanette."

And with that, the call ended, leaving the blue Seville to wonder what just occurred. Glancing around, he tried to see if anyone was staring at him, or behaving suspiciously. None such thing could be seen, but he soon saw and many electronic signs go dim, as if they weren't getting enough power. All, save for one that he judged to be to the west. Hoping that this wouldn't backfire, and hoping even more that this was actually a good thing, he hurried to the sign, keeping in mind to be safe.

As soon as he made to the large electronic billboard and was standing below its location, he saw another one down the road turn off and on and off again repeatedly. Deciding that it was a means of following a path, he pressed on.

...

…

…

Elsewhere, a violet Miller wrestled with her thought processes. "How did that song go?" Jeanette mumbled. "At least I think it's a song…"

It certainly did. It felt as if it was hard-wired into her subconscious. In fact, she wondered if-

"Nah…It couldn't be."

It was. The more and more she thought about it, the more and more the tune and lyrics fled from her. But the more and more she tried to **not** think about it, the more and more she did. It got so bad that she attempted to cling to the song, to the very tune by vocalizing it.

If it wasn't one thing, it was another. It came and went, coming and going like the memory of a dream.

Just barely out of reach.

'I've got to hold on to it! Somehow...'

…

…

…

Simon had run out of signs. He was basically stranded very distant from the hotel, but he was sure that if the call was to be believed, then he could be in the general area as to where Jeanette was located. However, he had no idea as how to find her. He had been searching for more than an hour, and it was now ten in the morning, judging from the rising heat. The clock on his phone (via a quick check) assured him that he was correct to the minute.

Normally, he got a sense of self-satisfaction from being right all the time, but he had no such fulfilment now. Jeanette was non-existent in a cruel place. For the first time, he was tired of seeing nothing but technological progress and the grays of asphalt and the darks of asphalt and the shadows cast by the massive buildings.

He just wanted her to be found. He wanted her to be safe. He wanted her next to him. He wanted…her.

Simon felt like crying. It hadn't even been three hours properly and it had taken an unforgiving place to stop taking the violet Miller for granted. All those times that Alvin had teased him for having a love interest in her was false. In truth, the waters ran deeper than that.

He didn't have a love interest in her. Rather, he was **IN LOVE** with her. A huge difference.

From ever since when, it was just…why couldn't he just suck it up and tell her? Now, there was a chance she could be dead somewhere, and now all that remained were regrets-

A melodic sound wafted in on the breeze that drifted through. The noise and tocsin of traffic threatened to overtake it, to crush the harmony, to kill it like a wild animal tearing into its prey. He could recognize the maker of those sweet chords any day of his life, and today was no different.

' _Jeanette_ …'

The mere thought of the name was like a balm to his injuries. Just as he was about to pinpoint a direction where it was coming from, sirens and horns drowned it out, and Simon lost it.

There was a first time for everything, and Simon, THE SIMON SEVILLE, lost his patience and reservation.

His world swirled all around him as he nearly maddened. "SHUUUT UUUP!"

He yelled at the top of his lungs, and the sound carried. All eyes turned to him from every which way they were, from pedestrians, from drivers, behind spectacles and sunglasses. All noise briefly went dark for a decent ten seconds, during which time the chipmunk looked here and there as if searching for his sanity, but in all actuality, something far more precious to him. "Jeanette…please lead me. Where are you?" He whispered.

The sound came again, and it sounded as if she was beginning to hum the beginning of the tune. He had no idea how he could hear humming, but then again, miracles were possible with the girl of his dreams.

"Of my dreams, huh?" He muttered. "She's much more than that."

Finally pinpointing a probable direction in which the singing was coming from, he ran across the stilled street and entered an alleyway. No sooner was he out of sight, all common life resumed as everyone returned back to their business but with a bit more hush, noting how they never noticed how loud it actually was until the noise was gone.

On his own away from the din, Simon felt most of his anxiety practically melt as he walked, following the descant. All that remained now was his need to see her, to tell her that he missed her, to hold her, to-

She was singing.

It went without the aid of a musical instrument, and yet he thought he had never heard anything better. Whet she had done before was to establish the rhythm of what was most likely a song, and since he had that in memory, it was easy to keep that strain in his head while she sang. The lyrics piqued his interest.

 _You could read a million pages,_

 _Know the words and all the phrases,_

 _You could even turn a lie into a truth._

 _You could live to be a hundred,_

 _Memorizing every number,_

 _You could even put a man on the moon._

'Is she…singing to me? About me?' Simon thought, baffled. 'Am I like that?' He dared not speak, lest he missed an important lyric.

 _And the science of the heart is sometimes lost on me…_

 _But I'm following this feeling!_

'Huh?' He thought the word with abandon, and he hated the interjection. It showed confusion. It made people sound daft, it made him look lesser than he was. But it came to be in him, and despised himself for not knowing what she meant. 'What feeling is she singing about?' He hurried on towards where he could hear the singing coming from, and had to manoeuvre around a couple of sharp corners.

 _I don't know why it's so hard to swallow our pride,_

 _And I don't know how many wrongs make a right,_

 _I don't know the reason, sometimes it just feels so good to love._

"Love?" Simon whispered eagerly to himself. "Love?"

 _And I don't know which way the wind will blow,_

 _But you're here with me…_

 _And that's all I need to know!_

As soon as he heard that, hope swelled in his chest. 'Is she singing about ME?' He felt like running towards he believed her location to be, but he had to go carefully over the remains of refuse and litter from smashed bins and cans, not to mention bits and pieces of an apparent bench that got trashed. Something large and imposing must have passed through, intent on leaving destruction in its wake. 'What happened here? You know what? I don't care. Where's Jeanette? I've got to be there? She wants me next to her!'

 _There's a moment in the morning_

 _When I feel the most alone_

 _And I hear your voice, whispering my name._

That's right. He used to have to wake her up in the mornings when she overslept. She loved to sleep, that's for sure. But he didn't know she felt that way.

Until now, that is.

 _It's like a wave of understanding_

 _And I never could have planned it,_

 _And all my questions and doubts all fade away._

'Does she mean when we reason together? I…do enjoy those times. Even recently when she was trying to convince me to stop being corporeal and appreciate things that are surreal.'

 _I don't know why it's so hard to swallow our pride,_

 _And I don't know how many wrongs make a right,_

 _I don't know the reason, sometimes it just feels so good to love._

 _And I don't know which way the wind will blow,_

 _But you're here with me…_

 _And that's all I need to know!_

By now, he clambered his way over a downed intercross fence, and for the first time, took note of the tyre marks. 'A vehicle. A vehicle of some sort took on the part of a juggernaut and drove through here when it shouldn't. I hope she's okay…'

 _That's all I need to know!_

His head turned around sharply, trying to find her. He could sense that she was in close proximity, but…where was she? The words 'so close and yet so far' had never felt so apt. Simon felt a sense of duty and purpose to be there, to be for _her._ He said he would. If only he could just find her!

 _I figured it out, you turned me around at the speed of light,_

 _All that I ever needed to know was in your eyes!_

 _I don't know why it's so hard to swallow our pride,_

 _Or even why we don't try to count all the stars in the sky…_

He looked up and…he saw her.

Simon saw his significant other apparently lounging or huddling or lolling against the sides of the metallic barricades of the fire escape, one floor up. 'Thank you, Jeanette.'

He pondered calling from the very start, but he couldn't bear interrupting her. Instead, he had let her melodic voice guide him to her, and it worked. He hoped that the song hadn't ended; he could still make himself known before she was done. He predicted that perhaps only the chorus remained, and that was twenty seconds or so.

Simon prepped himself, and started climbing up the ladder, trying to make it to her before she had ceased her vocalizing.

 _I don't know the reason, sometimes it just feels so good to love,_

 _And I don't know which way the wind will blow,_

He made it. He made it on top and pulled himself up into the cage-like area, just as she was singing that line. As soon as he saw her, he saw her face light up in one of her beaming smiles and he couldn't help but reciprocate the gesture. Together now, they stung the next bit.

Together…

 _But you're here with me…._

 _And that's all I need to know!_

 _And that's all I need to know!_

 _And that's all I need to know!_

 _And that's all I need to know!_

It was all that they could do, and being in one accord, they both sang the chorus over and over for who knew how long, and they petered out at the end, ending melodically.

When it was over, now, Jeanette felt herself blush madly in the presence of her crush and her eyes involuntarily fell. This made Simon smile broadly as he finally understood why. It wasn't because she disliked him or didn't want to associate with him. It was because she was being bashful. She was _timid_ of being around him. Of being around **him** , for love's sake!

Speaking of which…

"So, Jeanette…" He started, trying to break the ice that had emerged.

"Hmm?"

"Where'd you learn that song?"

She mumbled something that was incoherent. He was about to ask again, but her answer interrupted it.

"I don't know. It just came to me while I was singing it. Maybe even earlier this morning."

Simon decided that that part of the matter could wait until later. Per chance, he crawled over to where she was and huddled against the rear of the barricade beside her. "So who were you singing to?"

"I was…just singing. It felt like I would forget the lyrics if I didn't try to remember it. If you're here, I guess it worked. You did come."

"It doesn't matter." The chipmunk intoned in an un-harsh tone. "All that's important is that you're safe. You…you're important to me, Jeanette."

"I'm…important to you?" Man, and she thought that she had a trouble with words sometimes. He only regressed in his vocabulary in certain scenarios, mainly when he was nervous. He was…acting like her. Therefore, she started acted like him. "You're going to have to do better than that, Simon."

"And where did this Jeanette come from?"

"Do you like her?" A shy smile spread across her face when Simon gently put his right arm up, over and around her shoulders to bring her closer to him, where she leaned more into his chest.

"I love her a lot. I love the other one too."

"Other one?" She queried in jest.

"You know what I mean," Simon stammered a bit. "In fact…" He caught on quickly. "I think I've fallen in love with all of them."

"Mmhmm…I'm going to have to step up, since I have some competition." She suddenly giggled, despite the pain that bit back. "Oh my! Here we are, two nerds trying to talk sultry to one another!"

"For the first time, I don't know what I'm doing!" Simon answered back with a chortle. "This all feels so new, and weird, and…"

"Your vocab has degenerated again," Jeanette reminded. "You're nervous."

"Why yes I am," he tried to answer in his most stalwart tone and failed in epic proportions. "And you're not?"

"Maybe even more than you!" She exhaled a long sigh, one that showed that she was relaxed and truly happy. "I'm glad that you're here."

"And I'm glad just to-"

Before he even had a chance to finish, she captured his lips in a chaste kiss and suffice to say, it shut him up as she went on offensive, pressing more into he instead of him into her. She knew nothing about French kissing, so she let it be. Perhaps later. That thought, however, gave her the shivers. The pleasant kind.

And they were there, two pairs of soft lips pressed against each other for an infinitesimal moment and in all its simplicity, it brought them to a place of felicity as Jeanette giggled into the kiss; both having gotten what they wanted. All too soon, however, it ended when they parted not too long after. With its ending, Simon had to ask:

"So just to be clear, we love each other, right?"

The violet chipette's response was to kiss him again, and frankly, Simon had never quite been so happy to not receive an intelligent, worded answer.

 **Song: 'All I Need to Know' by Thousand Foot Krutch. (By the way, some words were swapped for others, mainly 'cry' for 'love' in the lines 'Sometimes it just feels so good to love.' I couldn't find a more suitable song and I'm confident that even without that particular word change, the song would've still worked.)**

 **Oh my ding-dang gosh, I did it! I finally wrote a kiss scene! T_T**

 **Well, at least one that wasn't in an erotic dream for Theodore. Poor guy still has some issues, but the two greens have some growing up to do. Although Eleanor seems like a yellowish green to me. You know, the chipettes being mixes of colours like pink, violet, light-green, that kind, y'know?**

 **I always planned for the middle set to get together first, although it was sooner than planned. I also didn't want to use the 'knight in shining armour theme' for all of them. It'd be too predictable. Besides, they seemed plenty close already, so…meh? I get the sense that it was rushed and was sudden, but I decided that I'd better do it, to avoid typing up filler when you've been waiting so long. I bet'cha you're impatient for AxB, huh? Me too, me too. Do you know how painful it is to have the ideas in your mind and in your book of plots but you just can't find the time to get it done?**

 **I'm sorry this update took ages. I'm doing a new course, but I swear to you, I will finish this fic! If I don't, it's because:**

 **-I died. (My sister will be given instructions to tell you all if that happens.)**

 **-The internet is broken globally.**

 **-Apocalypse (This may not deter me, though. Even if I have to hand-write it and post it to each of you individually. I'll find you, somehow. :D)**

 **If you follow me, you know that I'm always working on a fic. If you hear nothing from me in more than a month, assume the worst but pray for the best. I hope you understand. I also hope to finish another chapter for this before next week ends(if all goes well, even if it's a short one).**

 **Thanks for being patient.**

 **Valete omnes,**

 **MRAY 4TW.**


	17. Chapter 17

**AATC: Territory**

 **Well, as promised. I really cut into my time to post this. Believe it or not, for a fic that gets the least attention (followers and reviews wise) I think I put the most time investment in this story. No offense or ungratefulness, is all. I'm just saying that Naruto has a bigger fandom, only second to Harry Potter on this site. Well, thanks for all your support people; here's another chapter! :D**

 **17.**

"What the heck is up with my brothers today?" Alvin mumbled. "First Simon freaks out and takes off, and now Theodore…"

Well, Theodore wasn't crazy, but it was as if he was trying to act in a manner that everyone would have him off as such. The youngest Seville was behaving most uncharacteristically; an erratic vibe that was slightly controlled by his quiet nature but erratic nonetheless. And the reactions…were hard on him.

Valerie returned with a cup of chamomile tea that was heavily sweetened and handed it to Theodore. The green Seville eyed it testily and actually refused it. After one got past the fact that he refused sustenance (far more rarer that seeing Alvin listening to Dave and being obedient), they pondered his reasoning. Whether he was that upset, 'mental', or fearful of another case of poisoning, they couldn't tell. All they could do was watch and listen-

"I'm telling you! I just couldn't sleep!" Theodore exclaimed to Brittany.

"Why's that?"

His eyes flitted to Eleanor, who tried to shake off his gaze by looking at something 'more interesting' (that is, her feet) before he became noticeably more settled. "It just happens."

"And...?" Brittany trailed off the conjunction as a question, hinting to him that he should continue. As she did, she sauntered over to Alvin and quietly asked him where Jeanette and Simon were. He merely answered that he had no idea, but he'd tell her later what had happened earlier. There was a catch in his voice, but when he realized that she caught on to it, he tried to smile it off, with a 'don't worry about it.' As of now, only he, Simon and Valerie knew about it and each had reacted in various ways. He let that go, however, as Theodore began to speak his answer.

"Well, after that, I heard something. It was metallic-sounding."

"Uh-huh." Brittany squeezed into the chair that Alvin was sitting in beside him. "S'cuse me. I'm bumming a seat." To which the red Seville had no answer to, as she had already 'helped herself'. He didn't complain; the reason could be cited as that Theodore's case was more important, but he really didn't mind her sitting beside him. It wasn't a tight fit, but it was a bit snug. Cozy, even. Feelings of camaraderie were abound in that moment, but almost like something…more.

"So I got outta bed, opened the door and I saw someone fiddling with your door." Theodore said pointedly, indicating that he was talking about the suite door belonging to the chipettes. "I didn't even make a sound, but the person turned around and hit me on the head. They might've knocked me out."

"And…?" This one came from Eleanor this time, who was now definitely interested.

"I woke up late this morning," Theodore answered sheepishly. The moment that he was building up was gone, as now everyone leapt to the conclusion that he must have been dreaming at the time. They even went across the hall to inspect the door, but nothing out of the ordinary could be seen or found. This lack of evidence only served to make Theodore lose a substantial amount of credibility and the Seville had a hard time accepting the fact that not even Eleanor believed him. That in itself was strange, because she usually accepted everything that he said as the truth. If it were anything else but the truth, it was merely a case of him being misinformed; never his fault, really.

"C'mon, I'm telling the truth. I didn't even feel like sleeping. And then I fell asleep? How does something like that happen?" Theodore pleaded.

"I dunno, Theo," Alvin piped up. "That's never happened to me before. What about you, Brit?" He asked as he turned to the chipette next to him. She looked as if she had zoned out, so she didn't respond. He regarded her for a second, noting how she seemed deep in thought. "Brittany?"

The pink Miller roused up from wherever she was and looked back to him. Their proximity made her blush a bit before she shook it off. "Huh? What is it?"

"I asked if you ever felt like you couldn't sleep and the next thing you know, you're waking up."

Brittany gazed up towards her forehead, appearing to be deeply in thought. "Now that you mention it, I do. Happened to me sometimes, but most of those times were after we sung in Richmond." 'Come to think of it, most times when I cry in bed and I don't feel sleepy, I just wake up in the morning with barely any memory…wait a minute.' "Theodore?"

"Hmm?" Came the 'intelligent' answer.

"You saw someone messing with the door, right? If so, what did they look like?"

"Umm…I dunno how to describe it. They wore a lot of black…"

"C'mon, Theo!" Brittany egged him on. Looking on, Eleanor wondered since when her sister called Theodore by the shortened version she herself had given him. She could tolerate it from Alvin who she believed was 'too lazy to say his full name', but Brittany never used it. It threw her off, and a feeling composed of a mixture of jealousy and regret chilled her insides most unpleasantly.

"What did they wear? Pants? Skirt? Shirt? Blouse? Need to figure out a gender or something. Height?"

"It's a blur," Theodore held his head in trying to remember and somehow, Brittany felt like she could relate. After nights like she had earlier described, more often than not, her memory of the precious night was like a messy blur. Like remembering a dream a week before. It was there, but you just can't imagine it. Or even like describing something or someone and the word you wanted to say just wouldn't come; on the 'tip of your tongue'. As soon as she noticed, she held off trying to push it.

"It's fine. I…can't say that I believe you, but for some strange reason…It's like I'm not an unbeliever. Like I might've seen someone like that, and at night too. Maybe it's just a dream, or a coincidence or something."

This went on for another half hour, before Dave returned with late breakfast/early lunch that he had ordered from a restaurant a distant journey away. However, upon his return, he had to wonder why Brittany and Alvin were squeezed in one chair quietly conversing, Theodore moping in a corner, Eleanor watching a program only fit to be described as heartbreak romance on the television, Valerie reading a book and Simon and Jeanette missing. It was a shame, because they were late to practice a song, but he decided that it would have to wait until tomorrow. Besides, he still hadn't gotten in touch with a contact or two about a location to practice their music in peace.

But really…where were Simon and Jeanette?

 **=X=X=**

"That's interesting…" Simon mumbled to himself. For better or for worse, Jeanette had heard him, and asked him what was 'interesting.' Upon her asking, despite what they've done already, he blushed a full crimson. "Um…does the fruit 'grape' provoke any questions?"

"'Grape'?" She asked herself and the fruit provoked her thoughts. Suddenly, it came to mind when she saw him lick his lips; she touched her own in response. 'Oh. My lip gloss…'

"…" He smiled sheepishly when he saw that she had realized it. "Yep. You shared some with me. Would it be apt if I said you have excellent _taste_?" He chuckled to himself and she shared in it as well.

"Funny, Sy." She rolled her eyes and playfully fist-bumped him on the upper-arm. "Now help me down."

"Afraid of heights?" He helped her to stand up and over to the ladder.

"No. I hurt my side a little. My ankle too. I'm sure I can just sleep it off in a day or two, but…"

"We can't wait that long," Simon muttered just loud enough for her to hear. "This might get cumbersome…"

"What might?"

…

…

…

He finished climbing down the ladder and settled on the ground. He had to admit, he felt a bit ashamed that his physicality gave out on him and he had to let Jeanette off from her piggy-back. He wheezed a bit and unbeknownst to him, he envied Alvin for his own, much like she had done earlier. She sensed his mood and pecked him on the cheek, hoping to alleviate it.

"Thanks a lot, Simon. You're so strong!" She praised. She saw that it had the desired effect; he smiled at the recognition for his efforts, no matter how pitiful it might be compared to Alvin's, had he been here to judge him. Little did he know that his red brother wouldn't have even teased him about it; in fact, Alvin was actually rooting for Simon to get together with Jeanette and whatever they did together was their business. He actually liked Jeanette as a sister.

But Simon didn't know that, but currently that didn't matter.

"Let's go." Simon stated. Although as soon as they started, it became clear that while she could walk to a decent extent, it would have been easier if she walked while leaning on him. Like how a one-ankle sprained person could hop on one leg to where they needed to go, but a pair of crutches helped in support. Not absolutely necessary, but Simon had no complaints as to that when she leaned fully against him. In fact, he enjoyed that they currently had such close proximity. Pity it had to occur under such circumstances. But this was a silver lining in a grim thunder 'n' rain cloud; they were together, and that was what's important.

They weren't moving _slowly_ , but if they were all completely healthy (Read: Jeanette's side and ankle), they could have been moving faster. Now, it was her turn to feel self-conscious about this and as a result, lost significant self-esteem and became rather apologetic.

"I'm sorry, Simon. I should've just stayed inside today…"

"Sorry for what?" This took him off guard.

"For…getting into trouble. I just wanted to take some pictures to show you-"

"This wasn't your fault," he chided gently. "You can dodge trouble, but it passes no one."

"That quote of yours sounds original."

He smiled broadly. "I'll take that as a compliment."

"That's what it was." She giggled at this, but winced a bit. "Ow. Happiness hurts."

"I'm just sorry that you got hurt. Come to think of it, what happened?" He inquired. He wasn't afraid to know since she was safe, but that darkened look on her face nearly made him regret asking it. Damn his curiosity sometimes.

"I…um…" She pondered if she should tell him about the hacker or not. Glancing at a camera to the exit of the alley, she thought better of it, hoping that she'd be able to tell him later, somewhere private and free of all technology; just in case that hacker was listening in.

Sheesh. Yeah, right.

She could hope for that later. For now, she'd leave out those details.

"A car. Someone drove after me, trying to run me over. Or it was just a close-call on purpose."

She hurriedly explained all she could, all the while Simon looking more and more worried, angry, relieved and worried again.

"And then he drove off," Simon told her how he had come to know that something was wrong.

"In red letters?" Jeanette asked. "Maybe we could go to the police with this? Since that HAS to be evidence?"

"Hotel worker painted it over."

"But-"

"Let's not dwell on that," Simon interrupted as he hushed her by pulling her closer to himself. "The time has come…"

"Hmm?" the violet chipette felt that this was a reference, but for the life of her, had no idea where. He needed to be more specific.

"Simon…?"

"The Walrus said," The chipmunk continued.

In her mind, Miller turned it over in her mind. 'The time has come, the walrus said?' "Hmm…wait!" She started laughing in mirth. "I know it!"

"What is it?" He could tell that she figured it out once he saw that inherent twinkle in her eyes.

"Lewis Caroll's _Through the Looking Glass._ "

"That's right. The time has come, the walrus said…" Simon trailed off.

"To talk of many things." She finished. "But what kinds of things?"

"Um…" He started stammering, and the chipette had a feeling what his topic was actually about; he as just being bashful. "About…us?"

"Well, to be blunt, we're a _couple_. End of argument," she said the last with a smirk. When he saw it, Simon had a bit of a pleasure shock at seeing it. All of a sudden, there was no need to rush back to the hotel. They took their time and walked, laying the foundations to an evolution of a previous relationship.

One that was far better.

 **=X=X=**

"Why won't you believe me?"

"Well, **believe me** , Theodore. I want to believe you. But you don't even have any proof. Even if they were breaking in, nothing's even missing!"

"What if they didn't come to try and steal anything?" He didn't raise his voice. For starters, he didn't have it in him to raise his voice to yell at anyone, and even more so, this was Eleanor. It wasn't that she'd run against him for that, but he just couldn't yell at **her**. No matter how badly she broke his heart, whether she was aware of it or not.

She probably did. But if she did, was that her final reaction to the subject?

"Why wouldn't they try to steal?" She challenged. On the inside, she almost felt as if a part deep inside was rotting; ever since he had admitted to having feelings for him, she laughed him off and…since his metamorphosis of being nearly emo…the moody, unhappy, distant type. And knowing she was the cause of it just made the feeling worse.

Well, what was she supposed to do? Yell 'yes!' over and over to him like some sort of overly happy preppy? She wasn't obligated to give her heart to any and everyone who confesses to her, was she?

But then again, only Theodore did that…

Come to think of it, did she even have any plans of marrying? Theodore, her next door neighbor? Perhaps she should rethink this…rethink how she actually felt towards him…

"Nah, forget it, Theodore." She walked off, and the green Seville felt hurt creep into his being. It truly worsened when he realized that she didn't call him 'Theo' even once. She always used it to be affectionate, and now...where did they stand?

"Eleanor?" he moaned to himself like a heartbroken animal for its mate. "If only you knew…"

 **=X=X=**

The night was cool. Both suites were hushed; if there existed an omniscient being looking on, that being would remark that the chipmunks and the chipettes felt the same exact way about each other, but only the smartest of the sextet had actually come to grips about it and came together even closer than they were before.

If only love and life were more simple. But unfortunately, it wasn't, as Alvin found himself now accompanied by Brittany as he sat in a lawn chair on the roof. He probably should have expected it, but he didn't. Perhaps a greater force was at work…perhaps even a writer custom-tailoring his life so that only certain events took place.

He half-shut his eyes as he stared straight-up at the night sky, never really seeing it until the pink chipette was standing right next to him at the shoulder and looking down on him.

He had known it, fought against his consciousness, denied it but yet still, couldn't lie to himself anymore. When he looked straight up into her face, the night sky beyond her framed her gorgeous face like a majestic halo. Nigh instantly, ideas for songs came to him; he didn't know how to react to that. He was still reacting to the fact that he had known for so long, and yet he had continued to try to fool himself that he didn't think of her as such. That she was pretty, of course. But surely, other qualities were there. Beauty was skin deep, but while Alvin was a bit narcissistic ( _lover of self_ ), chaser of pretty women even when they acted like…( _female dogs_ ), where was Brittany all his life? Was he just seeing it for the first time?

"Hmm?" He asked dumbly. Her lips had been moving, but he hadn't paying attention. Well, excuse him for getting distracted by her beauty.

"I asked if you minded if I joined you."

He looked around. "I brought this chair up, and there aren't any more around. How'd you join me?"

She smirked as if she knew a secret, before she inched onto the lawn chair beside him. In fact, he'd have fallen off if he hadn't stayed his place, just barely away from the edge. But since she was also taking up space on it, they were **pressed** against each other to avoid one pushing the other off. This was in fact reminiscent of the time earlier when they were sharing the chair. "So…what'cha doing?"

"Admiring yo-" he froze, "the _sky_ …?"

"The sky?"

"Yup." 'Whoa, I nearly stepped into it that time. This was almost like the time I messed up and called her a beautiful singer in the van back in Virginia. But…I'll admit that much.' "So why are you here? Like to stare at the night sky too?"

"Hmm…" She started staring up at it too, noting the fact that since that almost all of the lights of Miami was below their location by means of height, the stars were easily seen. "It **is** pretty. I didn't know you liked these things."

"I never said I didn't. Although I just came up here just to relax. Everyone downstairs seems tense." 'And that's without me, Simon and Valerie telling them about the guy who painted that message. I think Jeanette got hurt, but she and Simon aren't telling me or the others about that. They must be trying to keep it from Dave.'

"Tense? Oh, you felt it too, huh? Although Simonette seems like a thing," she answered demurely, still looking up.

"Simonette?" He tilted his head sideways to look at her, but she was still stargazing. "Where did _that_ come from?"

"I dunno. It just came to me. But I get the feeling that it's popular. Somewhere else, I mean." She fidgeted a bit. "I'm not gonna lie, Alvin. Sometimes, I feel like somewhere else, it's like people are cheering 'Alvittany' but we can't hear it."

He hesitated for a bit. "Hmm…kinda. But does this place have a name?"

"Who knows?" They lied next to each other, practically snuggling next to each other while gazing up at the stars. They were like that for a decent while, before Brittany spoke again. "It feels like they got louder."

"I…kinda get the feeling too." At this point, both heads turned to each other but they hadn't anticipated such an event; they were _very_ close to each other, so at the apex of the head turning, their noses and lips briefly brushed against each other's. Scarcely a second later, Alvin threw himself off his side in a dreadful flinch to 'back away'. But as was noted before, they were already close to each other to avoid falling off. His sudden action…guaranteed him a chance of one in a million of still remaining on the lawn-chair.

He fell off the other side, and Brittany would have laughed if she wasn't tentatively touching her own lips as if to make sure that what just occurred wasn't just a dream, still not fully comprehending why she didn't feel up to fighting it. After all, it was just an accident. But that ended when Alvin leapt to his feet, blushing madly. "What the heck?!"

"…" She put up both her hands. "It was an accident, I swear. I don't feel like yelling my head off about it, so long as…" She started yawning before fully stretching out on the chair.

"We never speak of that…ever again…" Alvin finished. In the back of his mind, it felt like he was disappointed with himself for even saying that, right before another part of himself smacked it, telling him to make sure he did it again.

And so he stood there, both sides waging war until he heard murmuring.

"Hmm…the cheering seems…disappointed," Brittany mumbled, sound asleep. She was so far gone, Alvin might as well as have been on the roof by himself.

Alvin shook his head with a small smile on his face. "Only Brittany. I have to carry the chair back, but I guess carrying her back is more important." Gently easing her off the lawn-chair into his arms into a bridal carry, he carefully made his way with her to head back downstairs.

 **=X=X=**

Valerie was ready. She was on one of her favorite sites…YouTube©.

Sorting through her refreshments, she went to the site's homepage. There was a recommendation for a newly posted video there. She noted that it was a new one from Ravin' Raven. She decided to listen first and judge later. She learned that lesson over the years.

The video loaded quickly and started playing. It was the rap-rocker, and it looked like a music video of a song done in-studio. Cheap, and effective. But what got her attention was the song's lyrics:

~I am the master of this game,  
everybody knows my name,  
And I will gladly make you see.  
That you should not have messed with me.

But you have thrown the gauntlet down,  
Only one who wears the crown,  
So I will gladly hunt you down.  
And I'm gonna stomp you into the ground.

And you know it's true.  
I'm just better than you,  
See the fear that's in your eyes,  
I'll make you realise.

Well oh yeah, here we go again.  
Looks like we're on the floor again,  
Hell yeah, here we go again,  
Cause you can't get away.

I'll fight forever  
I won't surrender.  
And I will always,  
Hunt you down.  
Down.  
Down.  
Down.

Next time you open your mouth up,  
You better be ready to back it up,  
You better talk to all your friends.  
I bet you won't do this again,

Cause when you chose to raise your head,  
That's when a rat messed with a man.  
And I will hunt you down my friend,  
And I'm gonna tear you limb from limb.

And you know it's true,  
I'm just better than you.  
See the fear that's in your eyes  
I'll make you realise.

Well oh yeah; here we go again,  
Looks like we're on the floor again.  
Hell yeah, here we go again,  
Cause you can't get away,

I'll fight forever.  
I won't surrender.  
And I will always,  
Hunt you down.

And you know it's true  
I'm just better than you.  
See the fear that's in your eyes,  
I'll make you realise.

Well oh yeah, here we go again,  
Looks like we're on the floor again,  
Hell yeah, here we go again.  
Cause you can't get away.

I'll fight forever.  
I won't surrender.  
And I will always,  
Hunt you down.  
Down.  
Down.  
Down~.

Knowing what had been happening of late ever since they had all set foot in Miami, Valerie was scared, having seen what could only be a lyrical threat. She was scared for the six.

But what could she do?

 **Song: Hunt you down by Saliva (I slightly edited it.)**

 **Well, well, well. I was going to make this chapter longer, but it would have reduced the content for the next chapter. I hope you also like the minor fourth wall breaks and…well, I guess you should have cheered more. Maybe next time?**

 **I know this chapter could have been more emotional (fluff) but I didn't feel up to it. I really don't wanna rush Alvittany, but Theonor still needs work too. What do you think? Priorities first, don't you agree?**

 **Valete omnes,**

 **MRAY 4TW.**


	18. Chapter 18

**AATC: Territory**

 **My schedule has allotted a chapter to y'all. I hope you enjoy it.**

 **To the reviewer from Brazil (Ana Luiza):** **  
** **\- Ei Ana ! Estou feliz que você gosta da história! Espero continuar a melhorar , para que você possa se divertir ! Obrigado por seus elogios , e para realmente ler mesmo que você pertence a outra raça de pessoas que falam uma língua diferente do que eu escrevo ! Fique impressionante!  
I hope that you speak portugese, it's the official language there, right? **

**To Sherlsepeare:**

 **-The 'door breaker' is actually important and relevant to the main storyline. Next chapter, I'll flesh that person out just a wee bit more (not filler, promise) and we should have some Alvittany. That's not a spoiler...it's basically required by AATC Law to write about Alvittany. :)  
I hope to fan some dying embers of the story back to life, and I'll try my best. It's just that I really didn't want to rush their relationship. It's because it seems like anytime I'm reading about it in the fandom, they're in a relationship from the get-go, or become instantly enamoured with each other within two or three thousand words.**

 **18.**

Alvin gently laid the sleeping beauty on the bed, hoping that he wouldn't wake her. He had taken extra care and it had paid off, as she didn't even stir, not even once while in his arms on the way down. If only he had known that she felt more safe and secure in his arms than anywhere else, even subconsciously while asleep.

But he didn't.

There was so much Alvin knew about the chipette, and yet, even more that he didn't. God, he felt so…confused. He hated that feeling. He really did.

After he rested her on the big bed, he felt the need to say something, but didn't know what to say. 'Just let it out, Alvin,' he thought to himself with a lengthy exhale.

He sat on the bed with his feet hanging off the side and faced her by rotating his upper body. "Hey, Brittany."

Of course, she did not answer. In fact, all three chipettes in the room where sleeping, but the red Seville ignored the other two. This was between himself and her, but it was like a confession. But all would still be safe and no one would be the wiser, as he was the only one conscious to hear it.

"You've had it rough, I bet. Maybe in comparison, I've always had it perfect. We used to all just be separate in our own houses, having our own caretakers-slash-parents and just burst into song anytime we felt like it. We used to do a lot of Pop songs, dance, eat lunch at each other's houses, trash-talk one another, I would prank you and run away, you'd try to prank me back, Jeanette and Simon always doing their crazy experiments and Theodore and Eleanor always doing best-friend stuff." He chuckled a bit while he caught his breath; it was a wordy sentence. "And all that stuff was great, but now", he tone soured as he continued to speak, we're growing up. Even Ms. Miller died in that crash all of you were in. And after that, you just closed up."

Alvin settled in, as if getting ready to wind up. "After that, it got kinda clear to me that we basically paired off almost _**too**_ well. Jeanette paired off with Simon, and Eleanor paired off with Theodore. I was a bit scared that you'd try to do the same to me, 'cause we usually carried on like we hated each other's guts. But after a really long time of you keeping to yourself, I got worried. So I came to you instead." He felt a strange feeling well up inside him; he had no idea what it was. "I never felt this way back then. But now that I think about it, it's the best thing that I ever did. I stayed with you, and it felt so _right_ to. To be there next to you. To be there _for you_. I…I must've prevented you committing suicide and if I don't do anything else for the rest, I'm glad to just know that I made sure that the world didn't lose the best person in it. And that's enough, at least for me, it is."

He could feel tears welling up, but he angrily brushed them away. There was no leeway to be given for a thing like that. He had to be strong.

"And now, we're growing up. We don't really do those things any more…I've even felt like we're leaving Pop behind because our fans have been growing up with us. We switched to mostly Rock because of our listening audience. Among that, other things changed ever since that time last year. Theodore and Eleanor became more settled, not like little kids everyone had them pegged for, Simon and Jeanette became even more wordy but quit doing inventions and such every other week, and you and I…I'm not even sure how we changed, but it confuses the heck outta me. I can tell that you don't hate my guts anymore, and I don't hate yours. Remember the first time I had my accident? Not too long after I started doing parkour, I broke a leg and an arm trying to do a video so I could impress you. You were at home cooped up in your bedroom as usual, and I was hoping to do a video in the morning and then carry it to you. Breaking two limbs and cracking some limbs was not part of the plan," he added with a touch of mirth in his voice. "I got full of myself and tried to a swallow dive and vault from one roof to another. First time's **not** the charm. But in the end, it served a good purpose. While I was in the hospital, you repaid the deed and came out of your self-imposed prison to come see me in mine. You even tried to stay overnight the first few times, but the hospital kept turning you down. When I got out, I'd missed some school, but I didn't mind that _too_ much," he joked.

He looked more intently at Brittany's face. She was smiling. In fact, if he didn't know any better, he'd have thought that she was laughing, wherever she was in dreamland. "Then we came on this tour this year. We've had a whole year of bonding, getting over our differences and appreciating them. Hang out like close friends instead of like bitter enemies in a truce. I even helped you paint your nails once. **That** was emasculating."

Brittany frowned a bit in her slumber, and he took note of it. "But I did it anyway because I cared about you. You did the same by trying to insert yourself into my life by embracing what I liked. As much as I'm ashamed to admit it, I can't believe you out-gunned me in a first-person-shooter game like Call of Duty and Halo. You even tried to race me not too long ago in Richmond. That guy tried to rob you in that alley, and had the nerve to carry you off. I lost my cool, and I tell you, just for hurting you, I felt like killing the guy. And somewhere along the line this song's tune kept bugging me and you got better and I yelled at you and…"

He got confused again as his thoughts became muddled.

"And then Valerie talked to me on the flight. I found out that the song was a love song called 'Not your Fault' by 'AWOLNATION'. It was basically saying that I loved you and all that, and even Valerie reasoned out the same thing. I couldn't believe it…I still can't believe it. Me? Loving you?"

He looked away, but in doing this, he missed seeing her face contort into one resembling hopefulness. "I dunno anymore. It could be a possibility, but isn't there another explanation? It's like everything I do, everywhere I go, every time I sing, think, read, run, anything at all, you're on my mind. You're perfect. You can do anything you want and do it well. If you don't, you just try to get past it and you do. I'm just not the guy for you."

And so, it was in that moment that Alvin's ego became greatly diminished in light of the chipette still deep in slumber.

"So…should I ever come to think that I do… _love_ _you_ ," he said this with difficulty. "You'd deserve better. I've got my warts, and you should have a guy who has less, or none."

His confession was almost complete, but not he. He tenderly took up on of her hands and patted it while smoothing her hair back. It's be ruffled again by morning, but he loved feeling it anyway. "In spite of all things, I'll always be there for you, Brittany. I promise-…no. **I** **swear**. Things are going to get a whole lot worse before they get better, but I'll do my best to make sure you're safe. I know this might be strange coming from me, but if it's necessary for you to live, I'll offer mine instead."

He'd done it. He'd gone and confessed the feelings of his heart. He felt that much better, but still felt put off. Not to mention, he'd just claimed to give his life to keep her safe, and he was sure that the time might soon come that he might need to do this. After all, they were in a new territory, and they were breaking the rule…the rule that stated that any and every area is only just big enough for one person to inhabit.

"Well, now it's six of us here in this place. No, it's eight, in fact." Alvin muttered. "Dave and Valerie." He rested the chipette's hand back at her side and stood up, gazing all about the room. After a moment, he spied a pink 'Fender' guitar and his eyes widened. 'Wow! That must be Brit's.' He looked at her sleeping form then back at the guitar. 'I suppose I could-…'

 **=X=X=**

"Alright, so we have the songs planned," Dave announced. "But remember that we're doing three concerts. The main one is around ten days and it's the climax for this state. We have two minor ones, one that's this Friday, two days from now and then Saturday, then the last one next week Saturday. Both start at 6pm, and end at nine. Easy."

"Yeah," they all chorused in their own assorted ways. "But," Alvin began, "there are some songs that should be exclusive for the main concert. I really want to save 'Fly on the Wall' and 'Untraveled Road' for the last one."

"You just love that band, don't you," Brittany stated. "'Thousand Foot Krutch', huh?"

"You remembered the name?" Alvin boggled. "You-"

"Yep!" Brittany's face lit up. "I gave them a listen, and it's all really good. Clean music, sensible themes, and-"

"They rock!" They cheered at the same time. "But not as much as us in the next few days," Brittany added. "I've even been practicing and learning to play a guitar like yours." She went over to the instruments and retrieved her guitar that had lain in its case. As she took it up and put it on with the strap, she saw a strange look cross Alvin's face and she raised an eyebrow.

"Like it? Jealous? Did you do something you're not proud of?"

"Only one of those questions can be answered with a 'yes'," Alvin answered with an almost mischievous. "I guess you'll have to find out which one."

She was hoping that she could surprise him, but now, it appeared that he might have done something to her guitar. With a sense of trepidation, she strummed the guitar and she was pleasantly surprised to hear that it sounded much better than before when she was practicing.

"Whoa!"

The others all looked to the pair. "Brittany? Is that you?" Jeanette asked.

The pink chipette did not answer, except to play a rollout tune on the guitar. All of the notes sounded richer and more tuneful than before. It sounded like a transformation, whereas before the guitar sounded like something fit for a shrill Punk song, was now suitable for Rock, Pop and Metal if needs be. She turned to Alvin who was smiling shyly and without a doubt knew that he must've tuned it. A task like that could have taken hours, and she knew that it didn't sound like that before she went up to the roof to see him last night. He must've done it when he probably dropped her off in her suite. It didn't seem to fit his character to willingly lose sleep, even for something to help someone else, but he had been burning the midnight candle for a task like that.

"Wow! Thanks, Alvin!"

"Yeah, well, I did that so you can play up there since Simon had to go back to his keyboard and all," he tried to play it off as something he did as a duty, rather than a favour. Of course, she saw right through him.

And she appreciated him for it. After all, he was still trying to keep up his image but she could still tell that it took him an effort. Were they just friends? Did he have her in a special light? She was sure that they do, but who was going to make the first move if they actually loved each other?

"I was learning to play so I could surprise you," Brittany admitted. "Surprise." She stated lamely.

"It's fine. But you're going to need to do some serious practice on your own time, not just play random notes every now and again."

She rolled her eyes with a wry look. "Whatever."

"Alright, now to get serious, guys!" Dave called loudly. "We need to get to practicing! What's the first one?"

"Um, Dave?" Theodore spoke up as he walked over to his (adoptive) father. "I have a song. I w-wrote one."

"Huh?" Everyone looked up from their assorted doings and conversations as soon as they heard the chipmunk's request. "Theodore wrote a song?" Eleanor asked, baffled. "Wha-...? But...?"

"Now, now, we'll honour it, just like we did Brittany's," Dave stated. "Besides, I thought you guys were tired of doing covers all the time. What's the theme, Theodore? So I know what kind of cover we need to scratch off of our list?"

"Heartbreak." Theodore answered bluntly.

That had everyone thrown for a loop, but Eleanor was hit the hardest. She was suddenly fearful of hearing whatever lyrics this song might contain, but before she could attempt to leave, Theodore placed himself between her and the exit. "Have somewhere you need to be, Eleanor?" He asked in a statement that served generous helpings of...disappointment and...his supposed theme. (Heartbreak).

She uttered a 'no' weakly and went back to her place. "Nowhere."

It didn't take a genius to figure what could be going on, even so that a (sometimes dense) guy like Alvin could catch on. "Let's hear it, Theo!" He cheered out loud. Turning to Brittany, he whispered to her from behind his cupped palm. "This is **not** going to sit well."

"You don't say?" She asked back sarcastically. "Well, it might blow up, or...we'll just see what happens. Maybe it'll work out."

"So, are you going to sing accapella, Theodore?" Jeanette asked. "Because I've never really heard a song being sung before on just drums."

"I made the instrumentals with a synthesizer," he said blankly. "I've had a lot of time to learn how to use FL Studio© on Simon's laptop whenever he's been away for the past few days. It wasn't that hard." He went to his bag and retrieved a CD case from a compartment in it. Removing the CD, he then handed it to his blue brother. Said Seville hesitated and wondered if it would be best if such a matter were pursued. After a moment's thought and a discreet nod from his girlfriend, he placed it on a CD Turntable on his keyboard.

The tune started to play and all could say it was the first time they were hearing such a tune. It felt like a cross from a moody Rock theme from Three Days Grace, but mellow from REM. To everyone's surprise, Theodore sobbed once, before he contained himself. He did so quickly, and began to sing.

 _~How long has it been?  
A week or so…only a billion left to go.  
It separates us; it has taken you from me,  
You stayed, you left, you said 'no'.  
You're miles away from me and still within reach.  
Welcome to the realm of cheek kisses and side-hugs.  
We could have been a pair but you brought us here.  
You've restricted me, but I'll always hold you dear,  
You're miles away but you're still right here._

 _._

 _The different kinds of Love,  
I don't UNDERSTAND!  
Different kinds of Love transcending from Above,  
Why…why can't we have the same?  
From me for you I had one, from you for me you had another,  
We're right here together, yet still miles away from each other._

Everyone was hushed, in fact, far to scared to do anything to interrupt the singing green Seville. Theodore looked no one in the eyes in particular, but it was noticed that he kept glancing at one person in particular. It came as no surprise, but the green chipette tried her best to look everywhere except at her counterpart. She felt horrible; why couldn't Theodore just...be himself?! She could feel herself growing angry, but it quickly ebbed away when she heard what he sung next.

 _You're the one I want to be with,  
You've banned me by monumental distance.  
I wish..._

There was a pause in the instrumentals, and he mirrored the event. It was dramatic, yet profound. It signalled something phenomenal was fast approaching.

 _I wish I could hold more than your hand,  
I wish I could do more than just listen to your voice.  
I wish I could do more than just look at your sunshine-kissed hair,  
I wish I could do more just hear your lips form majesty,  
I wish I could do more than just glance at your emeralds.  
I wish...  
I wish..._

Another pause.

 _I wish you would love me the same._

Everything was melodic, and Eleanor could feel her heart bleed just from hearing it. She longed to run to the exit, never to return but another part nestled deep inside her kept her rooted to where she stood, wanting to hear more, needing to hear more, to punish her for what she did! She had to hear this, to listen to him pour his heart out in front of her, in front of all of those who mattered to her! It wasn't embarrassment. It was...a reckoning. She had it coming. It had been building up to this, and if she could drive a loveable chipmunk to heartbreak, and for him to sing such a depressing-sounding love-unacknowledged song like this, then it was the least she could do.

He finished the chorus, and went to the bridge.

 _Another lifetime in a moment comes and goes,  
Where...where do we go from here?  
I'll respect your decision as you've asked of me,  
You're miles away from me, yet within arm's reach._

 _._

 _The different kinds of Love,  
I don't UNDERSTAND!  
Different kinds of Love transcending from Above,  
Why…why can't we have the same?  
From me for you I had one, from you for me you had another,  
We're right here together, yet still miles away from each other._

He was winding down now, judging from his tones and the sound of the instrumentals dying out.

 _Please, let's go on as one and the same.~_

It was a touching song, and after a minute, Theodore answered the question on Dave's mind.

"Yes, Dave. It is too specific for the concert. I only needed one person to hear."

He said it in such a melancholic tone that it had everyone worried for him. This was short-lived, however as he was out the exit by way of a purposeful stride, and spared no one a second glance, save for Eleanor. That was soon lost, as the door slammed behind him.

It was then at that moment, Alvin made his most sensible comment for the day:

"Well, I guess that means practice is over."

 **=X=X=**

Eleanor ran at her top speeds from the auditorium, trying to figure out where Theodore had gone. He was nowhere to be found. After an hour of searching, she had all but given up. She had checked practically every room in the hotel that hadn't breached the other guest's privacy, eateries in the area, arcades, pet shops and the worst part of it was that by searching for him and not finding him, she realized that she must've driven him off his personality so much that he had changed.

He wasn't the same Theodore anymore.

Whatever that she did in that hospital room had this whole fiasco escalate into something of a more problematic nature.

And it was all her fault.

"I didn't mean to do it, not really like that," she murmured as she glanced to the west where the sun was beginning to comet into the sea, just as she was beginning to believe that she would have had more time to keep searching. She meandered around people in her way, not having a real destination in mind. She had nowhere to go, but held no desire to stay still. "I just thought he was joking. Nah...who am I kidding. I should've seen the signs. He must've had feelings for me a long time now, and I just blew him off. I'm horrible person...he shouldn't have to put with me. If I could do that to him, he...deserves someone better."

She felt like crying, but her 'tough' persona fought them back, but not without effort. "Oh me..."

A song played somewhere, probably from a passing car in the slow moving traffic. She happened to be walking at the same speed of its movement, and she recognized it.

"Oh...it's Linkin Park's _Until it's Gone_. What a coincidence," she mumbled to herself. "It's like everyone is telling me that I've messed up. Theodore basically told me, I'm telling me, a band that doesn't know me is telling me..."

A clap of thunder boomed across the skies. Not even a minute later, rain sheeted across the landscape in large, cold drops that pelted her nearly painfully. "I guess God's telling me too."

She hurried inside a nearby store from the falling weather event before she became soaking wet. 'Oh boy. I've gotta wait it out. Hope it lets up soon.' Glancing around, she realized that she was in a coffee shop, and that it was filled with people who, either they were there before the rain started falling, or they had the same idea as her as she had a minute before.

She was starting to feel a little bit chilly, and decided that she might as well patronize the store for something hot to drink. After waiting out the line for a few minutes, she made it to the head.

"What'll it be, little lady?" The shop worker asked as he looked down on her benevolently.

Her hard-wired response was to say an Espresso coffee, strong as usual, but to her surprise, she ordered a Decaf instead. "And love me a lot with the condensed milk, please."

"You got it."

It took him only thirty seconds to fulfil her order, much to her surprise. She was still trying to take out her money out of her jeans when he pushed it over to her. She finally got it out and paid him. "Thanks."

"So long as you don't get Type-Two Diabetes too early in life and try to sue me, I'll thank you instead."

"Really?" She asked, gesturing to the beverage.

"No, not really," he answered. "I didn't put in more than what I figured you'd want. Take it, and welcome. Take care of your health, 'cause you never really hold it in high regard until it's gone."

She thanked him again and went to a table that had just freed up. The apparent couple that had been there left the store, arms locked while sharing an umbrella. She felt jealous of them, but sat at their table regardless. As she sipped the hot coffee, she couldn't help but think about her counterpart; the thoughts that the relationship they had before was sweet, but this one left a bitter taste in the mouth. Why Theodore wanted a stronger relationship without the excessive lactose and sucrose, she didn't know, but he must've loved her a lot while knowing that she'd need a lot of work.

"Until it's gone, huh?" She bemoaned as she realized that she was drinking the recipe that had gotten Theodore poisoned. "Until it's gone."

She began to hum the tune she had heard earlier and not to long after that, started to sing in a mournful sounding voice.

 _~A fire needs a space to burn,  
A breath to build a glow.  
I've heard it said a thousand times,  
But now I know:  
That you don't know what you've got,  
Oh you don't know what you've got,  
No you don't know what you've got,  
Until it's gone,  
Until it's gone.  
Until it's gone._

 _I thought I kept you safe and sound,  
I thought I made you strong.  
But something made me realize,  
That I was wrong._

 _'Cause finding what you got sometimes,  
Means finding it alone,  
And I can finally see your light,  
When I let go._

 _'Cause you don't know what you've got,  
Until it's gone,  
Until it's gone.  
Until it's gone._

 _Until it's gone,  
Until it's gone,  
Until it's gone,  
Until it's gone.  
Until it's gone._

 _'Cause you don't know what you've got,  
Oh you don't know what you've got,  
No you don't know what you've got,  
It's your battle to be fought.  
No, you don't know what you've got,  
'Til it's gone.  
'Til it's gone.  
'Til it's gone.~_

She receded out with the song and she looked up, she noticed that everyone was staring at her. Without further ado, they started to cheer in their assorted ways for her.

"Stop!" She screamed, half-frightening them. "I don't deserve it!"

"Yes, you do," a voice spoke up from mostly behind the crowd. The owner stepped out to reveal himself to be the one she had spent the better part of her day searching for.

"Theodore?!" She exclaimed in shock. "But-"

"I wish I could do more just hear your lips form majesty, _"_ he quoted. "Nice song." He sat before her at her table and smiled sadly. "How've you been?" He gazed at her meekly as he placed his own cup of coffee on the table close to hers. Like hers, it was half-drunk.

"You know, the usual. Break a great guy's heart and starting to hear and see references about how I don't know how good I have it until it's gone."

"Maybe I should have been the one to hear and see those signs then," Theodore responded. "I should have just kept to myself. We had a great friendship going."

"No it wasn't!" She exclaimed, making him flinch. Eyes from the millers-about were attracted to her and she glared at all. "What?!"

They suddenly found something else to look at while she turned back to Theodore. "It wasn't...I...I kept treating you like a kid. You're older than me by a month."

"Age has nothing to do with it, Eleanor," he answered almost... _wisely_. "At least that was better than what we went through."

"Nothing can be worse than what I put **you** through," the green chipette corrected. "I'm sorry."

"You have nothing to be sorry about," Theodore admonished gently. "I can't force my feelings on you if you don't want to return them. That'd make me selfish."

"But I was selfish for not even giving you a chance. You're a rock star, the cutest 'munk, great personality, you could have had any girl you wanted."

"I don't want a _girl_. I only wanted to _be with you_ , Ellie."

Her shortened name had returned and her eyes softened. "I'm touched." They sat there for the longest while before Eleanor's eyes caught his coffee. Noticing that it was an Espresso ('We really changed roles in that sense,' she thought,) she reached over to his cup, took it up, and poured it into hers. She was able to shake off his stare while she then stirred it with her spoon, then poured half back into his. What this resulted in was a combination of sweet Decaf and the bite of an Espresso. It was mostly negated, but she then handed his cup back to him. "I guess we'll have to take the bitter with the sweet, then. I'll take a chance for us, like you did with me."

"Really?" Theodore asked hopefully.

"It's not wrong to wish for better," she said wistfully. "I'm weak. It's not going to be a Decaf the whole way...there'll be Espresso times too."

"We could just ask for some more condensed milk then," he remarked offhandedly.

"Oh, you." She reached over in the direction of his cheek and his eye's almost clenched shut in the thought that she was going to playfully pinch his cheek again.

' _Oh no, oh no, oh no! Oh-...huh?'_

He felt something press against his cheek, but it felt hardly fingers. In fact, it felt like-...he opened his eyes and saw that she was now next to him, her lips pressed against the side of his face. She smirked when she saw him see her.

"Gotcha!" She started drinking her coffee again, and saw that he was looking at her. "I know, I know, I'm a lot of work. **A lot**."

He smiled in contentment. "You're worth it."

 **And that's chapter 18.**

 **1** **st** **song- 'Right Here, Miles Away' by MRAY 4TW, A.K.A yours truly.**

 **2** **nd** **song- 'Until it's Gone' by Linkin Park (I don't own the band, or the great songs they write and sing.)**

 **Well, this chapter was NOT filler. There wasn't really fluff for AxB in this chapter, (one of them was asleep, LOL,) but it was a heartfelt confession. I do believe it works, and it was huge character development for him. But more importantly, let's give a 'hoorah' for the couple development of this chapter, THEONOR!  
No, they're not like Simonette, yet. They've repaired the bridge that Eleanor broke between them and now they're trying to meet each other partway. Don't worry; they've got until the end of the story to be as close as...as...  
Hmm...maybe as close as two creatures in a mutualism relationship. No? Two peas in a pod? Two welded metals? Oh, never mind. How long's the rest of the story, you ask?  
(Quickly checks plot book) Oh dear, I'm behind schedule. Might have to focus more on story details and less on fluff...maybe I'm losing it. Need to find...balance!**

 **Well, I hope you enjoyed the confessions, both while one was asleep and the other in a song. In fact, I hope you liked it. I have several more of my own to come, exclusively for this fic.**

 **Valete omnes,**

 **MRAY 4TW.**


	19. Chapter 19

**AATC: Territory**

 **Alright, let's see…time to check off that list.**

 **MRAY's Working Story Priorities**

 **1\. AATC 18 ({5.3k} Done [July 31, 2016])  
2\. G.P.H.L. ({17.9k} All visible errors cleaned)  
3\. Finished typing second chapter of an AATC fic in collaboration with Jake Miller. {4k}  
4\. Living Twice ({4.8k} Typed and ready to post)  
5\. Breaking Limits ({9.6k} Typed and Ready to post)  
6\. AATC 19 (Now and current)  
7\. L.W.A.R.D. (3.k)  
8\. Ultimatum: Omniscience (2-3k)  
9\. AATC 20 (4-5k)  
10\. AATC 21 (4-5k)**

 **=X=X=**

 **Well, that's what it looks like. We're on AATC 19, right now. Ain't I just a busy little fanfic writer? Time to crack those knuckles, pop two painkillers for the Carpal Tunnel Syndrome, and try my best. Hope you enjoy. :)**

 **19.**

It should have been an easy decision.

It was.

But not the way anyone had expected, or could even predicted.

 _THE ALVIN SEVILLE,_ master of the crowds and their controller. How did he do it? Why'd he do it?

It still had her feeling butterflies in her stomach. She couldn't believe that Alvin had done it. She couldn't believe what she had done, and his choices to correct it. She checked her phone and started looking at her notifications…everyone was online.

Everyone was talking. Everyone was talking about how Alvin had pulled an _Alvin._

How he pulled an _Alvin_ with **her**.

 **=X=X=**

"How're y'all feeling tonight?!" Alvin yelled the question with an experienced volume into the microphone; loud enough to wake anyone sleeping within a mile but avoiding creating feedback. He cupped his ear to the audience as they yelled their response to him. It wasn't as nearly large as Richmond; it was more like an oversized auditorium that was packed with people. Apparently, people wouldn't dare miss a show of theirs, and as Brittany liked to boast, it was something they should be damned proud of.

"I can't **hear** you!" Alvin yelled back. Brittany could swear that the answer back from the crowd nearly took her off of her feet. Gazing at the red 'munk, she wondered how he could hold the audience in the palm of his hand so well. She was confident that she could do it too, just not as well as he.

How the mighty (she) had fallen.

They had a gimmick tonight; their straight color sweats. It sounded corny when Valerie had suggested it, and Brittany had fought long and loud against it. Now, she didn't seem to mind the simple things right now; they could always have something more elaborate on their last concert.

For that one, she was either going all out, or going home early. But she was reluctantly accepting what they had now. It felt breezy and comfortable as they were active, lighting the concert up in a metaphorical fire. Many fans had shirts that had their faces, not to mention, had straight colors that represented their favorite member of the C & C Sextet.

It looked like she was gaining ground in popularity, given how many females were wearing hot pink shirts. Although it seemed that many of those girls came in tandem with their dates in searing red shirts holding hands. And when those two of a kind hugged, it seemed to make the Alvin picture on the red shirts kiss the Brittany picture on the pink shirts.

She could feel a strange new occurrence…it was like butterflies in her stomach. And…jealousy.

'Am I jealous of a couple of emblazoned shirts?' She wondered in amazement of herself.

Perhaps. But she had no time to dwell on that as they were about to resume. It had been pretty straightforward. They usually did the songs they practiced, but as the Master Crowd Controller he was, Alvin could pick up on songs that the crowd wanted to hear, and discretely tell the others what to sing next. That is, if they knew it. They usually did.

It all depended on the crowd sometimes, but if only she had known. Alvin was sometimes afraid of the smaller crowds. When they were smaller, it was harder to control when free-spirited spectators started raising chants. When the crowd was smaller and indoors, they could make themselves heard, and once one picked it up, another would join in, and then another and another. Soon, everyone would jump in what was like a passing fad, and the C & C ran the risk of getting booed if they didn't sing the song.

In those instances, they start 'working' in an area they had considered a hobby. But when they sang together, it never really felt like that. The camaraderie and the love they had for one another…they sang for themselves. Everyone else was just eavesdropping on their emotions.

She had been hoping to be able to play tonight, and she was not disappointed. With her hot pink fender guitar under her arm, tune ups from a guy she might be developing feelings for, self-lessons filled with mistakes, aforementioned guy helping her with her guitar by teaching her tips and tricks and sweet notes, she was confident and determined to make the stage hers as much as it was basically his. But not in an overly-competitive way, she told herself aloud. Just to let everyone know that she was playing a guitar too.

Take a long hard look at Brittany, all you Alvin fans! She was playing it too!

The music was here and now, and she felt like she was trying. That wasn't right. Alvin had told her not to try too hard, and not to really focus on the instrument or she'd fail at singing. She had already made the mistake twice within the hour, when she had missed her parts. Fortunately, her sisters had covered for her; the smiling youngest who was close by to the drummer whose own happiness was like hers if not bigger, and her second youngest who was almost brushing on the blue Seville. If Brittany had been looking closer and more frequently, she'd have noticed that Jeanette had mastered the art of intimacy with him in public with no one noticing. How the hell she managed to kiss him with no one in the audience even seeing the act, she must have been like the wind. **(1)**

A bead of sweat popped out over her brow but she ignored it as she knew that the end of her current song was nigh. When the song was over, she'd take care of it with her sleeve. There was no hurry; she had skipped on the eye-shadow this time, against her 'better judgment'. It looks like it was the wise choice after all, because this way, there won't be a mess of her face, especially while she was onstage.

Big risk…it was a good thing she didn't ante up.

The song was now done, and the bead of liquid was vanquished with her sleeve. 'What's next?' She wondered. 'I'm gonna need a break, but this concert goes on for another hour, ending at nine pm. How could Alvin play right through all-nighters, much less like this?' She stared at him, wondering how he could pull that off. In her mind, that was something of a feat but if he had heard her question, he probably would have shaken it off as being used to it.

Of course, that's exactly what he'd do.

He was holding his guitar high over his head by the hilt with one hand, right where the neck of the guitar met the body with the whole instrument facing the crowd. "Yeah, Miami!"

She knew she could barely manage holding hers with only one hand, let alone lifting it above her head like that. She'd be sure to brain herself. Alvin was indeed stronger than her by far, but she'd let him keep that victory. "What next?"

Said chipmunk's attention was centered on her immediately. His head turned to her so fast it might have created whiplash. His mouth was open, but she was sure that he'd be screaming the single syllable word 'no'. Behind her, she could swear that she heard Simon curse something while his headset-mike was muted, and Theodore actually face-palmed himself.

She had spoken while her mic was open to be heard by the audience, and the Seville chipmunks all knew the dangers of letting the audience of picking songs, especially when the evil wasn't necessary when they weren't out of ideas. The dangers of asking…this was why Alvin was a walking repository on songs. Why he was so diverse and could remember lyrics from the snatch of a tune and had easy recall on strumming the tune in the first place. All in the name of never having to be put on the spot by fans.

Fans given free reign to choose which song they wanted the group to sing.

All because she, Brittany Miller, asked as if to the _crowd_ , 'what next'.

Anything could happen. Any choice could be made, and before Alvin or anyone else of the sextet could salvage the situation, all kinds of suggestions were made by screaming fans.

"'Dead'!" One male teen yelled close to the front. "'My Chemical Romance'!" Scarcely had that suggestion been made, some others had taken up the cry as well. Alvin cringed a bit, knowing the lyrics. He liked the song, but he feared that the act of pursuing it might…hurt someone special to him.

"'Gone Forever' by 'Three Days Grace'!" Another one shouted. His shout was taken to heart as well, but soon another by the same band was shouted as well.

"'I Hate Everything About You'!"

"'Hold On' by 'All That Remains'!"

Alvin's ears perked up. There was a song he had mentioned all the way and time back in Philadelphia. He had wanted to sing the song then, but now, it didn't seem like a good idea. Not a good pick ever, actually. Not when he had Brittany on his mind.

"'Holding Out for a Hero' by Jennifer Saunders!" A girl yelled. That basically incited the entire girl faction, as all the songs previously mentioned held the theme of guys angst against girls. But the song raised up by the girls…only a girl could sing it comfortably, and if Alvin picked it and helped to sing it, it would only be enlarging the size of his ego. The one everyone believed was the size of several mountains.

If he sung a song from the guy's faction, he'd be boosting his ratings with the 'bros' who were wearing his face on their shirts.

If he sung a song from the girl's faction, he'd be boosting his ratings with the 'ladies', establishing himself as one for the girls.

He wouldn't lose.

But he'd lose her. He'd lose Brittany.

She'd lose too, and that was far more important. She was going to lose any standing she had with her listening audience. He'd need a miracle. _She'd_ need a miracle.

The pink Miller had started to grasp the severity of the consequences of the mess that she'd accidentally created, after hearing some of the mumbled lyrics from male members of the audience. It was angst-filled stuff, especially that of messy break-ups with girlfriends. Perhaps it'd be safer if she went with the girl's faction, but she wasn't sure at this point. The crowd was worked into anger, as both sides was about to brew and ferment themselves into a fight.

Boys against girls. How unexpected…and predictable at the same time.

She could already hear blows landing in the crowd, and she was already feeling horrible. It was a simple mistake, and she was only asking Alvin 'what next', not they, not the _crowd_. Had they always been this volatile?

Alvin must have sensed her internal discomfort, and smiled sadly. Without heeding anyone else, he approached her while positioning his beloved guitar behind him on its strap. Confused, she angled hers to the side, wondering what he was doing.

To her shock (and pleasant surprise), he stood before her and without preface, hugged her tightly. 'It's not your fault,' he thought furiously, actually hoping that she'd hear what he was thinking, and even just _feel_ it, hoping that she'd feel better. She was probably feeling that it was her fault, but it was a simple err, on that anyone could have made.

She…felt something. Like she was being relayed positive messaging from the person who had her in his embrace, one that she awkwardly returned. 'It's not my fault?' She thought to herself, believing that she could hear the very idea of it in her mind. She looked over her shoulder at the crowd; they were mostly settling down, content to just watch as the Red Seville and Pink Miller have each other in their arms. But she didn't mind; and she was **not** going to let them take this moment from her by staring and making it awkward, although Alvin's purposes and intentions for hugging her right in the middle of a concert could be called into question. "What are we going to do, Alvin?"

"I dunno," Alvin whispered tersely, "but it had better last the rest of fifteen minutes 'til we're done." He was silent for a while as he reluctantly let go of her. "This crowd is getting kinda angst. If we keep singing, we're putting our concerts here in Miami at risk if we sing what they don't want to hear."

"We need to sing what they _need_ to hear!" Jeanette piped in.

"We have to sing a song that everyone knows, needs and that we can all take part in," Eleanor stated matter-of-factly. "Everyone together and easily seen, to set an example that we shouldn't fight."

"Yeah!" Theodore exclaimed.

Brittany bit her lip in worry as she heard somewhere in the back, the sound of a glass bottle breaking. "We'd better hurry guys. They're getting out of control again."

"We don't want them turning on **us** ," Simon said worriedly, hoping that everything would turn out alright. Unfortunately, his brilliant mind kept reminding him that it was more than likely that things were going to go awry. "Alvin? C'mon, pick a song. Quick!"

They all looked to the chipmunk, who had his cap half-up and scratched his head briefly before re-tightening the headwear. His mind kept coming back to sing a love song, but he feared how that might turn out. He was still coming to grips with his feelings, and he wasn't too sure how he felt. Besides, he didn't really feel like pulling an _Alvin_ presently; those never really went well. He needed to think on what was necessary, not rushing into foolish decisions.

"'Happy'," he said at last.

"Hmm?" Brittany asked, confused.

"'Happy'. I heard 'Happy'," Alvin insisted, almost saying it in a frenzy as he turned to his blue brother. "Simon, download that tune, instrumentals, whatever. We're singing 'Happy'. We're leaving Rock for the rest of the night, and switching to Pop. We're all up here."

"I didn't hear anyone mention that they wanted us to sing 'Happy'," Simon muttered to all. The rest of them agreed with him, but the oldest 'munk ordered for the last time to bring up the song.

"It's for the best," he affirmed. "I heard 'Happy', so pull it up."

"Pharell Williams?"

"Which other 'Happy' do you know?"

...

…

…

It'd been a long time, Brittany decided, that they had foregone Rock. She, like the others, had a bit of a panic when the song started up, as she knew that she was back to dancing, as all instruments were placed back in their cases. Pop required smooth yet sudden, rhythmic steps best done in a group, with awesome choreography. It was all winged on the spot, as when the song began, all bets were off.

But once Alvin started, she got the cue; then everyone else of the sextet followed their lead. It was fun, it was exhilarating. She did it with Alvin.

Normally, she didn't dance with him. In fact, it was extremely rare. She used to do it frequently with her sisters, as their gender decided what kind of moves to dance. Of course the boys had their own moves, but it worked out, as they formed what was some kind of halfway point…ah, freestyle and improvisation.

…

…

…

"We all know it, right?" Alvin checked to make sure.

"Are we all made for each other? The answers are the same." Jeanette shot back.

Well, that response was interpreted in slightly varying ways, especially that of Alvin and Brittany glancing only once another before breaking out in heavy blushes. In fact, it made Brittany think a lot more about…'them' than anything else, nearly zoning out. But she did notice that Alvin must've been thinking about the same thing as well.

Where did they both stand?

Alvin shook himself out of his musings when he heard the song start up, and told everyone to turn their headset microphones back on, before doing the same. He snapped his fingers, and somehow the sound carried, as the other five took up the example. After prancing about on spot, he started, hoping desperately that everything would turn out all right.

 _A: It might seem crazy what I'm about to say…_

Alvin did a bit more dancing on spot while snapping on his fingers before pointing to Theodore, knowing he'd need a higher-tone male singer for the next line. His brother panicked a bit before calming down, going with the transition.

 _T: Sunshine it's here, she's here to stay…_

"What the heck?" Alvin mouthed. That's not how that part of the song went! Theodore apparently didn't care, but he did put his hand on Eleanor's shoulder and brought her closer to himself in a hug about the shoulders. Alvin's jaw dropped, but he then pointed to his second brother to sing the next part before the pause ended.

 _S: Real and surreal, describes her face…_

What the hell was going on with his brothers?! What were they doing?! Alvin became furious all of a sudden, before he realized…they were rephrasing a happy pop song…into a happy **love** pop song.

And it was his turn to sing. The pause had come to an end, and he had to SING! A brief look at Brittany told him that she had caught on as well, and he'd better think of something now that his brothers had changed the theme.

She was here…next to him…and he was caught. He had to sing lyrics love-related, in front of her, in front of this crowd, in front of the world watching over the internet, in front of God. He had to sing. HE HAD TO!

And so he did.

 _A: Love's in the air, baby I care, oh and by the way…_

He did it. He was probably having a full crimson body blush, being covered by his clothes. Her face was red as was his, but he persisted. Man, he could tell that this was going to blow up later. He gestured to his brothers and he nodded to Brittany, all others getting the hint.

 _AST: You make me happy-_

 _BJE: Clap along if you feel good being here now with me,_

 _AST: You make me happy-_

 _BJE: Clap along if you know that our feelings are real,_

 _AST: You make me happy-_

 _BJE: Clap along if you know happiness equals us two,_

 _AST: You make me happy-_

 _BJE: Nothing makes me happier knowing I'm the one with you…_

Each pair had been dancing around with each other in their usual fluid moves, but it felt somewhat more enhanced when they were paired more than anything else. Not to mention, the crowd was listening intently, and it didn't take much to figure what was going on in their heads. Perhaps…no, probably…no, **they had** to be thinking about close knit relationships that were always rumored about members of the sextet.

The girls knew this most of all, and the lyrics they formed on the spot were synonymous with each other. No, in fact, they were exactly the same. How could they make up lyrics on the spot, and each sung the same thing? No one had a clue. No one cared either. They just danced and sang.

 _BJE: People can talk whatever they want, saying this and that…_

Each of the girls grabbed their counterpart's hand and clasped it, fingers interwoven tightly. Alvin in particular enjoyed the feeling of Brittany's in his, and hoped that she wouldn't have to let go, as ridiculous as it seemed.

 _BJE: Talk all you want, I don't give a -_

Nothing was said at the end, but the most obvious word to go there would have been 'damn'. Appropriate, strong and still rhymed.

 _BJE: We're alright; he and I will be just fine,_

Brittany was feeling it! His hand was radiating a stronger heat, and his pulse was racing. It felt good to sing this. It really did. Like she was singing how and what she really felt, and euphoria took over.

 _BJE: Too in love to care, don't waste your time!_

Alvin made an 'all together' gesture, hinting that they should share the next part.

 _ALL: HERE'S WHY!_

They swapped back to the original chorus now that was of the rightful song, but the message was already made. The original chorus was more like affirming what they said before, and the dancing they were doing still seemed more pairing driven rather than what was previously expected.

They then parted, each stepping apart as males and females of the sextet figured around each other like liquid as if this was something practiced all their lives. They just let the sweet music take control and by now, the audience came in to sing, allowing them to breathe easy between parts.

 _Audience: Because I'm happy!_

 _ALL: Clap along if you feel like a room without a roof!_

 _Audience: Because I'm happy!_

 _ALL: Clap along if you feel like happiness is the truth!_

 _Audience: Because I'm happy!_

 _ALL: Clap along if you know what happiness is to you!_

 _Audience: Because I'm happy!_

 _ALL: Clap along if you feel like that's what you wanna do!_

Then there was another lyrical rotate, being done to accommodate each member of the C & C to sing a fraction, a single slip would have been intolerable, but they didn't care. Each was with each, and the difference between love and happiness was blurred.

 _A: Happy, bring me down. Can't nothing…bring me down._

 _B: Love is too happy to bring me down._

 _S: Can't nothing…bring me down. I said, bring me down._

 _J: Can't nothing…bring me down._

 _T: Love is too happy to bring me down._

 _E: Can't nothing bring me down_

 _ALL: I said-_

 _Audience: Because I'm happy!_

 _ALL: Clap along if you feel like a room without a roof!_

 _Audience: Because I'm happy!_

 _ALL: Clap along if you feel like happiness is the truth!_

 _Audience: Because I'm happy!_

 _ALL: Clap along if you know what happiness is to you!_

 _Audience: Because I'm happy!_

 _ALL: Clap along if you feel like that's what you wanna do!_

They did the lyrical rotate twice more, and the chorus repeat was nigh to close. The song…was coming to an end, and he could feel himself growing slightly weary. Now he remembered why they stopped dancing so much for the all nighters. But it was only nine in the night. The concert had been going since three pm, for a party.

He took in the sight of a smiling crowd. The song had worked them a full 180 degrees from the bad mood from earlier. He danced as he turned to Brittany, as his brothers did to their counterparts. The pink Miller smiled broadly at him, and he smiled back when an idea came to him. It was bold, but it felt safe…so long as it was executed correctly.

If a slightly off error was made, someone was going to get badly hurt. And he'd be damned if he hurt Brittany.

He sighed deeply as he snapped his fingers in beat with the song, just like everyone else. Time was running out for the last repetition of the chorus. "Brit?" He asked in as whisper, heeding his mic. But even if it was audible, the whole audience singing along quelled it, save for she who was dancing with him right at his side.

"Yeah?" She whispered back.

"Trust me…and forgive me…" He quelled the feeling of anything negative happening.

"Why?"

"I'm pulling an _Alvin_."

Simon overheard, and his eyes widened. "Oh boy. Everyone, give him some room."

"He's pulling an _Alvin_?" The whisper passed around the sextet, and Brittany was suddenly fearful. She was about to be involved in an ' _Alvin'_. There was a reason it was called that…it was practically the same as being called 'a reckless stunt that's bound to go wrong'. Dave had started calling Alvin's acts recklessness 'pulling an _Alvin_ ', and the phrase had become an idiom.

She was about to try and make her escape, but decided not to. She'd exercise faith and trust. Trust in Alvin. Trust in the _Alvin_ too, whatever it was.

And then, the choice to escape was gone, as he grabbed her left wrist in his right hand and tugged in it, pulling her towards the front of the stage a bit, and then towards him; the act making her rotate like a top. She spun into his arms, but just before that, he positioned his right foot out and it tripped her, making her fall backwards onto his left arm. Her tripped feet still on the flat of his right foot, a deft flick upwards with it lifted her entire lower torso; a split-second later, his right hand was under her thighs. He had skillfully and fluidly spun her in to his arms, then hefted her into a bridal carry. She was blushing like mad, thinking that this was it. That wasn't so bad. Bold, but not bad.

He wasn't done yet.

He threw her high up in the air. She felt the instinct to scream, but she was breathless from the sudden serenity of the moment; lights from cameras dazzled her and the crowd gasped in wonder. In those seconds of being between heaven and earth, she felt like she was flying; Alvin was strong enough to heave someone of his own average size into the air, high enough that she felt like she would soon be able to touch the high ceiling of the auditorium.

Brittany Miller was in a mystical limbo, she didn't even see what was going on beneath her, but somehow, she knew that everything was going to turn out for the best.

From below, Alvin timed everything down to a science. He had thrown her high and forwards, close to the front of the stage; almost as if she would land in the crowd. He had endangered her safety, and he refused to let her pay the price for that. But he went through. He would let her down, but only into his arms.

Secure in the knowledge of his prowess and a silent prayer, he sprinted three steps forward as sudden as he could, before taking a pause on his left leg. The pause utilized, he leapt forward, right on a spot he had eyed on the floor and made the best straight legs front-flip he had ever done in his short life, as forward as he possibly could for the best momentum.

He could sense the awe and suspense in the crowd, and knew that Brittany was still above him, but not for long; she had reached the apex of the toss-up and was about to begin falling. Time slowed down for him for a mere second, and he smiled to himself. This was a great night. No, this **is** a great night. The moment was pregnant with all kinds of wonderful emotions, and he knew that with the success, it'd be even better.

He finished the flip and landed back first on his right leg. His weight and planned excessive force made the knee of that foot buckle and fold to the ground as a kneel, and the left leg landed, but that was on the heel. A mere angling forward and he was sliding along on his back knee, and controlled by his left leg to steer and to avoid overshooting.

A full second of sliding came to a stop, and not too soon as Brittany landed securely into his arms comfortably. As the shock and surprise and bated breath wore off, Brittany was first to react, as she slightly trembled. On impulse, she grabbed his head and brought it to hers, pressing a big one on his cheek.

 **=X=X=**

The hacker waltzed in to the chipette's hotel room, while watching the live concert on her cell phone. "Whoa, bad move Brittany. Did you really ask the audience what to sing next? Ravin' Raven once told me that that's one thing a singer should **never do**. Look at that guy in the audience; did he just get decked in the face by his girlfriend?"

She watched the video as she headed to the bedroom, determined to just grab what she needed and get out. Heading to the secret corner, she pulled out the miniature camera she had set up some nights ago. Going through her usual procedure, she removed the memory card out of it and put in a new one. The chipmunks and chipettes were pretty big in her eyes and she loved them; no lie. If only she hadn't had to do the things she did. Frequently, even. What a shame.

She fast-forwarded the video and watched as the concert was more or less saved by what appeared to be an unplanned cover of 'Happy'. Having worked with others in the music industry, she could tell that all that they did was done on-spot, but it was wonderfully done. The audience probably wouldn't even tell the difference.

"Well, good play…oh? What's this? Is he pulling what Dave calls an _Alvin_? Oh boy, he's gonna do something dumb and reckless." The hacker mumbled. She placed the memory card between her hand and the phone, relying on friction to keep it there to free up her right hand to grasp the door knob. 'At least while they're gone I don't have to break in like always; I finally had the sense to make a keycard that I rigged up to work on their door.'

The hacker kept on watching the live-stream and gasped when she saw Alvin throw up the chipette. "What the hell is he doing?!" She watched in disbelief as he did a strange type of front flip before he landed on one knee and slid forward, meeting Brittany at the spot where she fell and caught her in a picture-perfect stunt. A second later, she watched as Brittany kissed his cheek, and the whole audience cheered so loud it nearly blew apart the phone's speaker.

"Yes!" The hacker exclaimed she flailed her arms, ecstatic. "Wow! Oh man, I nearly thought…whew," she jammed her phone in her pocket and went through the door. "Brittany looked happy. Guess she's alright. Alvin nearly gave me a heart-attack, and I'm the one watching the damn stunt, on mobile, no less!"

She left through the door and locked it before walking away in a manner that indicated that she was with great purpose and left.

'Hmm…I wonder if Brittany sleeps better at night with the sedation? Shame about Theo, though. Poor guy needed it too that night, after I heard how he went through what he did with Eleanor. Good thing he didn't see me well though, things would have gone to hell so fast…'

The hacker left without a trace…save for a small memory card she had accidentally dropped during her moment of exuberance in the suite. It fell onto the carpet without a sound, and slipped between the fibers, seemingly lost.

' **Happy' by Pharell Williams. I don't own it. But it's fair to say that I can own the changes I made the chipmunks do. It fit, didn't it? I didn't really plan this chapter at all, but I think it's one I can be proud of. It just happened. It's been sitting around needing to be updated from…last week…Thursday? Sorry. :(**

 **(1) {She [Jeanette] must have been like the wind.}** **This is a reference to the fic I mentioned that I'm planning with Jake Miller. Although he doesn't need me to tell HIM that! :D  
Leaking Info: Yes, it's an AATC fic, but I'm hoping to that we can finish the whole thing before posting chapters weekly. It's going to be awesome, in fact, it'll be so **_**awesome**_ **(Read:** _ **EPIC**_ **) enough to need a trailer. A trailer, for crying out loud!**

 **Ohmygosh, he pulled an** _ **Alvin**_ **! He…he did it…he did it!**

 **Ah well, things get more interesting, I'd say. A bit, just a decent bit of fluff for Alvittany, affirmations for Simonette and Theonor, and as promised, some more insight on the 'door breaker'. Now you know that the person is the hacker; they're one and the same.**

 **For what they performed, it'll be looked into by everyone and from what I hope, it will be a great Brittany-centered chapter, but just in case if it isn't, sorry. I still always try to be fair to all characters.**

 **Valete omnes,**

 **MRAY 4TW.**


	20. Chapter 20

**AATC: Territory**

 **Well, I hope you all enjoyed the previous chapter. Time to get to typing this one, huh? (10:25 AM, August 19, 2016)  
** **Story Priority #9: AATC 20 (4-5k)**

 **20.**

It should have been an easy decision.

It was.

But not the way anyone had expected, or could even predicted.

 _THE ALVIN SEVILLE,_ master of the crowds and their controller. How did he do it? Why'd he do it?

It still had her feeling butterflies in her stomach. She couldn't believe that Alvin had done it. She couldn't believe what she had done, and his choices to correct it. She checked her phone and started looking at her notifications…everyone was online.

Everyone was talking. Everyone was talking about how Alvin had pulled an _Alvin._

How he pulled an _Alvin_ with **her**.

…

…

…

Everyone had been congratulatory; smiles all around, clapping, cheering, camera flashes, yells for encores…that was normal for the sextet, but for Brittany, it had felt like something _more_.

Some things never changed. But this…

They had done larger concerts than this, had made better money than this, gotten more attention than this, but never, _never_ , **never,** anything like THIS. This was like making history, and she was a part of it.

He was a part of it. Hell, he was responsible for it.

 **=X=X=**

"That was crazy!" Eleanor yelled. "I thought he lost his bloody mind!"

"It worked!" Brittany yelled in her mirth, a large smile on her face. "You shoulda been there!"

" _ **I**_ was there. I was almost at your funeral too!" Jeanette butted in. Although she had been concerned, all they were doing was joking. A bit of a personal change from the worry-wart she usually was.

"Hey, hey, you three!" Valerie approached the three chipettes. "You did fantastic!"

"Thanks!" Eleanor pulled up a bottle of juice and tossed it to the redhead, who caught it easily. "The concert was pulled off without major incident. If Brittany's boyfriend had gotten her killed by pulling an _Alvin_ , though…" She trailed off while trying to stroke her chin to appear thoughtful.

Brittany sputtered. "B-B-Boyfriend?! Are you on new medication I should be aware of?"

"Oh sure," Jeanette rolled her eyes and grinned. "You two hugged on stage when you know that we're supposed to be keeping it professional, and then the little stunt, in which you kissed-"

"Hey, hey, hey!" The pink Miller shouted her down. "That was expected of me! Damn! It was a perfect moment for that, and you can't doubt that!" Although she did have a point though, about that kiss…

"I saw it," Valerie spoke up with a knowing air. "I can tell that all everyone who's anyone who saw that concert here and online is going to be talking tonight."

"They always talk after concerts," Brittany defended weakly. "Of course they're going to talk."

"Yeah, and that song…" Valerie looked mischievous. "Those lyrics. Did you plan that cover of 'Happy'?"

"Nope. It was impromptu," Jeanette replied. "Alvin said he heard someone mention that they wanted us to sing it."

"I don't think that's true," Valerie muttered thoughtfully. "Did anyone else hear the person?" All shook their heads in the negative, and that set all thinking. With that said, the techie decided to talk with the boys and see what was going on over there.

So she was curious. Go figure.

The pink Miller was the same, though.

 **=X=X=**

Dave paced back and forth, back and forth, back and forth. Elsewhere and somewhere behind him, Simon and Theodore refreshed themselves with almost-overly sweetened beverages, looking on at their father fret here and there before their eldest brother seated in a chair. It was yet another scene of Alvin getting pulled aside for 'disciplinary' action after doing something reckless.

Finally, after another minute, Dave ceased his actions before his adopted son and half-glared at him. "I remember a night in Richmond where you promised to be on your best behavior after your so-called apology to Brittany that kept people up half the night."

Alvin muttered something in the affirmative; normally, Alvin would be, or would have been fighting this case scenario, but he was feeling pooped. Going on since three in the afternoon 'till what? It was closer to ten p.m., now. And his little stunt demolished what energy he had had left. His exhaustion was catching up with him and it made him docile. All he really had left was his will, but it was currently under suppression. He just couldn't be bothered.

The stage technicians, among other people who were passing through and looked on at pity at the Seville. What should have been an afterglow of music-and-dance euphoria but was instead a chewing out by Dave. More than once one of them looked like they wanted to intervene but feared the eldest Seville's ire. "Alvin, why'd you do something so reckless?!"

More mumbling, sounding like an 'I don't know'.

"Did you even think about what you were doing?"

More mumbling again.

"Alvin? Why'd-"

"Hey, Dave!" A newcomer came up on scene, hailing to the upset man. All recognized the voice to be Valerie's and heads turned to acknowledge her. "What's going on?"

She could see what was going on. She'd enough experience and the know-how about the family of musicians to know when its leader was 'talking' to his son again. "'The blunders of the red chipmunk wonder'," Dave answered simply, seeing the redhead he had taken a liking to. Alvin, on the other hand, felt a burn at hearing that from his adoptive father but he was grateful to see the woman. Perhaps she'd distract Dave long enough for him to muster enough energy to run back to the Hotel, perhaps, and hide out there for the man to cool down.

"What blunder? I saw the show, and I didn't see anything wrong…besides, well, you know…the crowd that nearly took itself apart when it divided itself."

The man sighed. "I know; I saw it. Come to think of it, where were you? I didn't see you about."

"I was getting myself high on caffeinated beverages in the lounge. Watched it on screen."

Dave rolled his eyes. "Figures. But what Alvin did was irresponsible and-" He turned his full body to Valerie and seeing him do so, Alvin seized his chance.

He got up as best he could and darted 'round Dave to get to the door. He actually made it to the door, but someone was on the other side, leaning against it. As he turned the doorknob and yanked it open, Brittany fell against him and the two crashed to the ground in a tangle of limbs amidst sounds of yelping and squealing.

All eyes snapped to them, but Brittany was first to recover and looked all around, before realizing that all of her rested securely over Alvin's prostrate form. Looking down, she realized that her face was a bare inch-and-a-half from Alvin's own, and their noses nearly touched. They were just there, looking acutely into each other's eyes; the red Seville felt like he was metaphorically freezing and the pink Miller had the notion that she was close to drowning. And then suddenly, the extra-half inch was lost was lost, wonderfully destroyed by the chipette, but she suddenly felt that sense of wanting as the male 'munk pressed forward another half-inch, their noses touching each other's now…-

"Egh hem!" Simon cleared his throat loudly, before things got too…what's the _word_? Blown out of epic proportions? That wasn't a word; it was a phrase. But that suited the situation perfectly. "Um…guys?"

The two on the floor blushed as red as Alvin's clothes as Brittany leaned up in a hurry as she chuckled nervously. Suddenly, an innuendo ran through her mind and she decided to use it at the Seville she was still on top of. "Heh. Would you look at that…I'm on top."

Alvin's face heated to supernova proportions and his nose nearly bled. "Get off'a me, Brittany," he practically whimpered. She obliged him and he got up shakily. "I…I gotta go."

And with that, the thoroughly rattled and embarrassed 'munk could only make his shaky getaway. Soon, he was out of sight and Dave turned his attention on her, now that the subject of his rant had made his escape. "Young lady…were you eavesdropping at that door?"

Brittany was now trying to think of a fib she could use but none came to mind. She saw Valerie behind Dave frantically gesticulating and mouthing the words 'don't lie'. Dave sensed motion behind him and turned to look at her, but the woman had enough sense to stop before he looked, and tried to look as innocent as she could.

"What?"

He shook his head and turned back to the pink Miller. Valerie had resumed and Brittany decided to just go with it. "Yes. I just wanted to find out what was happening, that's all."

"You shouldn't have been doing that, Brittany. I thought that you knew better than that-" Dave began, but he was cut off by the eldest chipette who had the nerve to step forward with a glare and interrupt the man.

"I do. I also thought that you only yelled at Alvin when he got into trouble."

"I-"

She wouldn't let him finish. "Alvin didn't do anything wrong! I could hear you all the way down the hall! Eavesdrop?! Everyone could hear you? How do you get off by publicly shaming your son?"

Behind Dave, Valerie showed Brittany a double-thumbs up, but Brittany didn't dare smile at the accolade. "Alvin's done nothing wrong on this trip as far as I can tell. Everything that he's done, he had good cause!"

"He ordered a ton of food in Philadelphia!" Dave defended.

"He ordered food so everyone could eat, and he donated the rest! Need I remind you of something called the 'Charity Chipmunks'?" Brittany shot back. Valerie flinched a bit when she heard that, having seen the video for herself. There was a bit of some history there.

"It was incredibly expensive-"

"Bought it with our signatures so **you** wouldn't have to pay for it."

"Yelling in the hotel at night in Richmond-"

"He was trying to apologize to me for acting up in public." Brittany answered coolly, enough to deflate the man more than just a bit. It forced him to try and draw for what he believed was a trump card.

"Nearly killing a man in Richmond by breaking his limbs, cracking his ribs and putting dents in his _skull_." Dave put extra emphasis on the last word to get his point across. He felt really bad about saying things like this, but he just felt he had to raise awareness that he was doing all that he did because he cared deeply for them all. But he was faintly aware that he was on the defensive…and quickly losing ground. The looks he was getting from the others like a few lingering techies, his other sons and Valerie let him know that he shouldn't even be having this sort of argument.

"Oh?" Brittany raised a questioning eyebrow. "You mean the very same person who said to me, and I quote," she made the classic air-quotes, "'Gimme everything you got, unless you want people to find your body in a dumpster with your throat slashed.'" She unquoted and returned to regular speech, "then he cut me, knocked me out and tried to kidnap me. So don't you start…" She was practically trying, and actually succeeding at intimidating Dave, "don't get started on Alvin. He didn't **do** _**anything**_ wrong!"

Valerie silently cheered behind Dave. 'That's it girl! Fight for yo' man!'

Brittany came down from her high. "It was my fault. I was only asking Alvin tonight what we should sing next, but I made the mistake of having my mic open. The crowd heard me and thought I was talking to them. If anything, if anyone got hurt, I would have been the one to blame. And then everyone was freaking out and looking to Alvin to help, to fix _my mistake_ and to make sure the crowds didn't turn on us, or ruin our stay in Miami. Furthermore, I don't think Alvin heard anyone say they wanted us to sing 'Happy'."

"Me neither, and I usually monitor everything," Valerie mumbled. Simon and Theodore agreed, and Brittany nodded with the answer. "Right. He just didn't want us to know that he was suggesting it, and the song was a **great** idea, to try and stop everyone from fighting."

"And why'd he do that?" Theodore asked.

"Yeah, Alvin would have been sure to say that _he_ was the one suggesting the song to save everyone's hides," Valerie piped up.

"His ego surely wouldn't have permitted that," Simon offered. "Unless the impossible happened. Alvin… _humbled_ himself." Simon grimaced before shaking his head. "Nah. There'd be a better chance of snow here in Miami, right now in August."

Valerie on the other hand felt that she needed to know more, but perhaps later she could ask Alvin himself. "But what about all the improvisation you guys did in the song? A happy **love** pop song?"

"Yeah…I guess I started that," Theodore answered sheepishly, a wry smile on his face. "Sunshine and all."

"Get out!" Brittany cried. "Really? You and Eleanor?!"

His shaky reply answered her question, but he insisted that they were trying. But as the saying went, 'nothing ventured, nothing gained'. "Wow! I'm happy for you two."

She was actually jealous all of a sudden too, and called to mind that this song might actually start raising a lot of questions that might delve too personal, particularly between her and Alvin, if there was in reality anything going on between them. She needed to change the topic. "Well, what do you think about the stunt, huh?" She gushed.

"Highly unnecessary, highly unsafe, highly unpractical, highly risky, but…" Simon pushed up his glasses as he spoke. "It got the job done. It buffered out the little spat the crowd went through, polished over the concerts many flaws, and it'll guarantee a night full of answering notifications from social media, lest they start assuming that we're all in relationships with one another."

"You're going to deny that you're in a relationship with Jeanette?" Valerie deadpanned. The blue Seville's face flushed as he coughed into his fist to hide it.

"Who told you-…I mean… _huh_?" He tried to fake, but the damage was done. "What relationship?"

"Simon…" Theodore started as he kept his eyes on Dave. The man looked bemused and knowing, and tolerant…that was a good sign. "Even I know that that was pathetic."

Everyone started laughing at Simon's expense and in an effort to cast attention elsewhere, he decided to talk about Brittany. "Well, what about Brittany, huh? The lyrics of that song, how she danced with Alvin, that stunt and then she kissed-"

Brittany's eyes got wider and wider. "What?!" She tried to think about a way out, but had to go with the number one tried (and sometimes effective) method. "Yes?! Eleanor?!" She yelled out her 'response', although everyone could tell that Brittany was pulling a fast one as she inched backwards to the door. "I'm coming Eleanor!"

And with that, she ran away full tilt through the exit and was gone; so quickly in fact that Dave wondered if she could give Alvin a run for his money…pun intended. "Like Alvin, she also runs away from her problems. Go figure. Well," he clapped his hands in finality. "The hotel's not far. We can walk back. Valerie?" He turned to the woman. "Be a dear and gather everyone?"

The redhead rolled her eyes at the joke. "Yes, dear."

"Um…" Simon began.

"Don't get any ideas, wise-guy," the woman pointed at him with an index. "We're only good work friends."

Simon knew that, but the look on Dave's face looked half-disappointed. "Of course. I wouldn't dare believe anything else," he gave his answer with just a hint of sarcasm. He wouldn't be 'Sarcastic Simon' without it, after all.

 **=X=X=**

His breath was coming in pants. 'Whew. That's…far enough, I reckon.' He sagged with his hands braced on his knees, before treading slowly for a bench under a nearby streetlight. Said streetlight was next to unnecessary as lights were on in every building around him-…it seemed like the whole area was a hotel and nightclub terrace. People were walking around him in a bustle anyhow, and they didn't notice him for who he was. Something to be thankful for, he supposed.

"I…I can't believe we almost _kissed_!" He muttered in astonishment. "And how does she get off by saying that she was 'on top'?"

He was no stranger to having girlfriends, but they never lasted long. He always thought that to be his being of another species, and the fact that he was an hyperactive, egotistical, entertainer who was hardly reliable…

That rant could go on for hours.

He hoped that that was all behind him, but he swore that the chipette actually had him heat in his loins and he had to beat a hasty retreat like a dog with its tail between its legs. That could be taken almost literally.

He needed a distraction.

He fumbled with his pocket, and withdrew his smartphone. An easy choice was made, and he connected to his data plan, intent on getting started on his notifications for Social Networking.

He had never seen such a large influx of Tweets in his life than in that moment. Gathering himself, he started thumbing the screen to scroll and read them. Soon, his eye began to widen ever so slowly, but were soon the size of dinner plates.

" _ **What?!**_ _"_ He roared.

 **=X=X=**

The group sans the red Seville walked slowly up the road to the hotel, but Brittany's actions irritated everyone else to no end. "Put the phone away, girl!" Eleanor fumed. "What if you trip?"

"What if I don't trip?" Yeah, that wasn't the best comeback, but it was all the pink Miller could answer as she scrolled through the page filled with tweets. And it certainly didn't help as the page needed to be 'refreshed'. "Holy crap. 'That stunt was so awesome that I became blinded'. 'That moment between Brit and Alv was so sweet when they hugged that it gave me Diabetes'. Can you believe that?"

"You're the one reading it," Valerie answered. "But they called it a moment. Imagine…soon, I bet they'll be talking about that kiss at the end too, as simple as the thing was. People make big deals about those kinds of things."

"Really?" Brittany looked back at her phone as she walked up with the rest of the group, taking care to move behind the group as they cleared the way people who were coming from the opposite direction. "Huh. Someone already made a meme with it."

"Ooh, let me see!" Valerie gushed. Dave felt the need to discourage the woman, but couldn't be bothered. She just loved being plugged in, it seems. Perhaps it was her being a techie and all. "Oh! They used the picture of you in his arms and you kissing his cheek. 'What, me worry?' Good one, I suppose. And there's another one!" Valerie held the phone down so they could both see. This one showcased the two of them midair; she was high up and Alvin was caught in the act of being mid-flip. "'Keep calm. Alvin and Brittany have everything under control.' That's a good one too. What was it _like_? Being thrown up and all and then landing back in his arms?" The woman asked curiously, but with the air of a gossiper.

'Best night of my life!' Brittany screamed so loud in her mind that she was sure everyone had heard it. "Meh," she shrugged as if it weren't a big deal. "Same old, same old."

Valerie frowned. "You do this _**often**_?!"

"What? No!" The chipette nearly threw her phone as she brought up her arms to help gesture her fervent reply. "I'm just saying that it was…okay."

"Girl, I can see right _through_ you." Valerie deadpanned. "I saw how it went down! Now really! What was it **like**?!"

"It was like freakin' magic, alright?!" Brittany all but yelled, getting others to stare at her. "I felt like I was _flying_!" Satisfied that she had made her point to a certain stunned redhead, she turned back to her phone. "Oh…oh my God." Her face fell. Without another word, she shoved her phone back in her pocket. This got everyone interested all of a sudden, but after trying to talk to the chipette, she just closed up. She was dead silent.

Not being able to stand anymore, Valerie carefully removed her phone from her pocket, taking her time to remove it before connecting to her own data plan, and then to Twitter© ( **AN: I don't own it),** heading to Brittany's page. She knew the girl's username well; it was still 'Da Hottest Miller' if she wasn't mistaken.

Scrolling through the comments/tweets, she could see almost immediately what had gotten the chipette upset. Haters be hating, and Flamers be flaming, as usually the case was.

They were horrible.

 _This bitch thinks she's hot stuff when it's only Alvin doing all the work!_

 _She kissed him on stage, huh? I wonder what they do when they're not on stage! God, it's a wonder she didn't jump him then and there!_

 _You asked the crowd 'what next'? What the hell? Are you retarded? The crowd's first answer should have been to chuck glass bottles at you._

 _I paid this much money to see a skank to act unprofessionally?!_

 _Thank God that they kept their pants on!_

 _What the hell! She's_ _ **trying**_ _to play a guitar_ _ **and**_ _sing at the same time. Who does she think she is?! Alvin?_

 _She missed her lines so many times. This concert was a waste of my money, a waste of my time, and this screw-up just showed us that she was probably just a mistake of two retarded parents! A waste of a night of unprotected sex!_

 _Go back home, you rats!_

And those were among the 'nicer' ones. The worst ones were far more explicit. It was almost enough to make the redhead so angry that she wanted to hit something. If she could be having an emotion running that high, then she couldn't even begin to imagine what the chipette was feeling. She didn't really have the capacity for the emotion or anger, and was probably feeling a deep-seated sadness and disappointment. She had a lot of hopes set on tonight, especially when it had come to playing the guitar with Alvin. Some people were just too hard to please.

The woman was silent as well and tried to comfort Brittany by hugging her about the shoulders as they walked. She was about to just turn off her phone when a new notification came in. Being who she was, she couldn't leave well enough alone to just ignore it so she read the name of the person who submitted.

"Well, I'll be-…" She read the name out loud. "'Awesome Alvin.'"

"Hmm?" Brittany looked up. "What was that? Isn't that Alvin's usename?"

"Hold on, I'm reading it!" Valerie exclaimed. She read it twice through, a grin nearly splitting her face. "Damn!"

"Val?" Dave spoke up in a chiding tone. "Language."

"Don't start. You should have seen how Brittany's been getting slandered with words more explicit than pornography."

"What?!"

"Shush!" The woman raised a finger to her lips. "Let her read this one in peace."

Brittany carefully read the message, not wanting a single detail to escape her:

 _They say that the best way to get over a problem is to first admit that you have a problem. I admit that my ego's been out of my control for too long, but I'm trying to get over it. You haters, on the other hand, need to realize that your problem is that you're a bunch of assholes. :(_

 _Tonight was one of the best nights of my life, and I hope it was Brittany's as well. She wanted to play her own guitar with me for this concert, and who was I to let her down? If she was willing to play at this concert, then it was my duty that it would be at her best._

 _I tuned her guitar, tried to tutor her for some lessons, taught her some tips and tricks and I tell you, she was the best learner that I never was. ;)_

 _She played her heart out tonight and she got carried away, sure, even to the point that she missed a few lines. SO WHAT? I've made that mistake more times than I can count. We're not gods, people. We all make mistakes. Geez, has everyone forgotten the time I got laid up in the hospital with broken bones for a bad stunt? It even made the news. Two words…EPIC FAIL._

 _The concert turned out great in my opinion, especially at the end where all you haters insist on bashing. Let me tell you something._

 _That song was all improvisation on the spot._

 _To think of it, the lyrics, the dancing, hell, the reckless stunt, that was all improvisation. Why the hell are you all picking on Brittany, anyway? You should be ashamed of yourselves. You should feel HONORED that she'd ask the crowd what to sing next. You got to choose! Who doesn't want us to sing their favorites, huh? Are we in your heads so we should know what to sing from the beginning?_

 _And last of all, that stunt. That was actually a near-screw up. I put Brittany's safety and life in danger just to do what? I still don't know. Maybe it was for me? I hope not. To impress the crowd? Probably not. To distract you all from tearing each other's throats out? To some extent._

 _It felt right. The stunt felt right. The song felt right. Brittany playing the guitar felt right. In fact, this night was perfect, or as close to it as God can permit. You think we love each other? Sure. We all love each other. That's something you can think about, all you haters out there. If you don't have anything good to say, then keep your damned traps shut._

 _Awesome Alvin_

Brittany couldn't speak. She wanted to say something, but didn't know what to say. To get upset that he was sticking his nose in her battles, or for trying to defend her, or for seemingly trying to take some if not all of the blame, and she couldn't help but wonder.

What had she done to ever deserve such treatment?

She still had her issues, and all to sift through, but her significant other kept putting himself in her life, and to be fair, she kept trying to put herself in his. Why?

As she had thought before, she believed that love was too strong a word, but close to the end of Alvin's tweet, it didn't quite add up. As she read that part again, she kept seeing the words 'Sure. We all love each other.' But in her mind, she kept interpreting them as 'We love each other' and such a prospect scared her. They've come a long way, and she was sure they had a terrific friendship, after all they've been through.

But was it love?

He gave her the feels. The good kind. And so far, he'd demonstrated that he was willing to do anything for her, but tried to shake it off as if it were no big deal. They nearly kissed each other on the floor in front of everybody not ten or fifteen minutes ago. And then there were all those times he'd been there for her-

"Wow. He's quite a guy, huh? A good catch, too?" Valerie said easily enough.

"Yeah," Brittany answered with a small smile. "He is."

 **Well, that's that. Moving on! Hopefully I'll have another chapter up by the end of the week. But don't wait around though, I'm only human.**

 **Valete omnes,**

 **MRAY 4TW.**


	21. Chapter 21

**AATC: Territory**

 **Well, it's before the end of the week. I actually got started within fifteen minutes of posting AATC 20. (August 22, 2016) Dedication huh? Well, I guess that's it. It's time for a new timetable of ten, as this is the last priority of this order.**

 **10\. AATC 21 (4-5k)**

 **I don't know what the next timetable will be like, but it will be within a month, I promise you.**

 **You can chisel** **that** **in** _ **granite**_ **.**

 **21.**

Dave could tell that his son still hadn't come home to the hotel, but strangely, he didn't mind…even though the readout of the clock on the wall told him that it was almost midnight.

He had had a lot of time to think in those hours since he had yelled at him, and had come to the realization that he was just another stiff-necked parent. Sure, he was strict. Sure, he was (excessively) loud. Sure, he was repetitive with his practically trademarked yell of his red son's name but then again, he was only human.

This was Miami. This was the place that everyone sought to stay away from if they were musicians. He knew that this place, maybe the whole State itself was monopolized by one man…a very dangerous man who had used his talent, ruthlessness and influence to rise to the top of the pile, and then used veto-like authority to basically run the state…music wise. For a place like Miami that seemed like an entertainment hub, to have a monopoly on the music was a sure-fire way to get rich, get drunk on power then stay that way. The only downside was that the man had gotten insecure for a long time, and anyone who even thought of passing through had either made it damn quick, get a near military-like escort, pay their dues or prepare to take a dirt nap or wear concrete shoes all the way to the bottom of a deep water body. Enough said.

Dave knew he had a lot to worry about. They had long overstayed their welcome, just by showing that they weren't tourists. They were touring…period. They were here to sing for three concerts and they had their second one tomorrow, before the final one next week Saturday. But what Alvin had done earlier tonight had cause his paternal instincts (almost maternal, if Valerie had to give her opinion on it,) to go off the graph. It could be in his nature to worry, but he only wanted what was best for them. Why couldn't they see that?

But then Brittany had defended Alvin…as if he were the villain in that scenario.

Maybe it was 'villainous' of him to act like that. What's worse, he knew that she was right. Perhaps his son really was maturing, despite his brash tendencies from time to time. He couldn't help but crack a smile as he remembered when Brittany had defended him. He had always thought that the two would hit it off, and they nearly kissed each other on the floor in front of him. Something told him that they were on autopilot and hadn't been fully aware of what they were doing. Maybe the time would soon come and he'd have to give Alvin 'The Talk'. Dave had to suppress a shiver at that, knowing that it might end in a disaster. But what of Brittany? No one would be there to tell her 'The Talk', since Ms. Miller had passed on. Perhaps the chipette already knew. Girls should be more are of things like that, right?

The clock struck midnight, and Dave just sat in his chair and sighed as he listened to the dozen chimes play out from the clock before all went silent. He decided to check up on the chipettes; a small change of routine should keep him awake. He was getting a bit sleepy.

Heaving himself up, he put on his bed slippers and shuffled over to the door to exit it. He did the deed and left his suite, but he had to hesitate when he heard something like singing in the chipettes' room next door.

Turning the knob slowly, he then gently pushed the door open just enough to stick his head in so he could hear better, and realized that it was Alvin. As he were, he was afraid to move lest he make a noise, so he decided to stay still and listen.

 **=X=X= (30 mins before)**

A disgruntled Seville walked up the steps, not sure if he should be angry at the tweets, or fearful risking more ire and flak from Dave. He knew that it would be midnight, but he didn't dare to try and face the man while he was asleep. Hopefully, he could just sneak in after his adoptive father fell asleep, but sooner or later, he'd (Alvin) be asleep. Whether he was sitting or even standing, it'd matter little; he was that tired, tired enough to fall asleep with his eyes open during a metal concert...while playing...while standing…while on fire.

Finally making it to his suite that he shared with his father and brothers, he prudently leaned his head against the door to listen. He heard nothing but mutterings and sighs. Typical Dave.

Alvin moaned from disappointment. Then what else was he supposed to do? His father had been lay-waiting him, no doubt. Deciding that there was only one alternative, he decided to head on over to the chipette's room. He hesitated a bit, but he tried the knob. He grinned to himself; what a break! The door was unlocked, no doubt because of someone's recklessness.

'At least something's going right!' He stepped inside on tiptoe and shut the door behind him. He heard what sounded like shifting in the bedroom. He reasoned it to be someone in there moving in their sleep and he thought that that was fortunate; no one would be around to see him or judge him.

Or cast him out.

He headed to the bedroom in a beeline and took in the sight of Eleanor, Jeanette and Brittany. The three were all in pajamas already, fitted in their colours and fast asleep. But he had eyes only for one, and that bed! That double bed! The bed that Brittany was resting on was more than large enough for her to share with him. The problem was, his important other was asleep, and he wasn't willing to wake her up, tell her some ridiculous story about how he was trying to avoid Dave, and then beg her so that he could bum a night's sleep on the bed next to her.

He quickly got out of his track suit and sneakers while in the room, leaving himself clad only in a pair of red underpants and a white undershirt. That should suffice for just one night; besides, he was intending to be gone before she woke up, anyway. He was just hoping that she was a sound sleeper and that she'd never rise between now and dawn.

With a grateful sigh, he got into the bed, took off his cap to lay it on the nearby table and rest his head on the pillows, staring up into the ceiling. He almost fell off into dreamland at once, and he couldn't understand why. Flashes of the day and night's events kept running through his mind and to make it worse, he looked away from the ceiling and to the left, right into Brittany's face. The chipmunk was sure that she had been silently asleep, but now...

Was she... _crying_?

He sighed quietly to himself. It wasn't the first time he had seen this. It had happened frequently in the past, particularly when he used to keep her company overnight during the tragic summer. Moreover to the point, it seemed that the chipette had never really gotten over her nightmares of that catastrophic summer. He always knew in the back of his head that she hadn't gotten past her past, but she held up such a great front that she wasn't hurting. Perhaps her singing that song in Richmond had only served to make things worse.

He had thought she was getting better. She seemed to have been sleeping better ever since arriving here in Miami; he didn't know why, but he wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth. Why wasn't she sleeping as she had?

He hoped it was a short spell, but he was wrong. She got a bit louder, and he suddenly found himself praying that she wouldn't cry herself awake, as she usually did. Or even make enough noise to wake her sisters; he was a trespasser, after all. He was probably breaking more than just one taboo at this point, and wondered how he could (comfort) help her.

'Huh? Comfort? Where the heck did that word come from?' Alvin though, immediately became confused. 'I need to (comfort) help her. Damn it! What does my brain mean by 'comfort'?! I'm thinking 'help'. We're friends. Comfort sounds like couple stuff. Maybe even Theo's area of expertise.'

Well, Theodore wasn't around now, was he?

Tentatively, Alvin reached out slowly and lay his hand over and around her shoulder.

Didn't work.

After extreme hesitancy, his hand went on autopilot and moved his hand to her face cup her cheek, before stroking away her tears with his thumb. That helped a lot, but it mightn't be enough, as her volume's plateau was still too high for comfort.

"Brittany?" He whispered. Caution was fleeing him and he neglected to say her name anymore. "It's alright. You're fine."

Her tears barely ebbed, and he could feel himself growing desperate. Now, he wasn't sure if he was still doing it to keep her from waking up or if he was doing it purely for her sake. Something deep-seated told him that he was doing it for her sake, and the thought made him smile a bit, of all things.

Music wasn't life...but it was an important part of it. In fact, too important part of it. He knew that perhaps there was a song that could reach her, wherever she was. Right? That was what lullabies were for, right? That's what comfort songs were for, right?

Right?!

That logic made sense to him, and after some careful thought about the situation, thought up the lyrics of a song. It was impressive, to basically write a song in such a situation he was caught in without any stress, remember it and imagine a tune.

If someone else was watching, they'd think that Alvin was pulling on some sort of other dimensional repository of songs for inspiration, but it just came to him. It came to him naturally and he started singing, doing it softly:

 _~Late at night I could hear the crying.  
I hear it all, trying to fall asleep.  
When all the love around you is dying  
How do you stay so strong?  
How did you hide it all for so long?  
How can I take the pain away?  
How can I save…_

 _A fallen angel, in the dark?  
Never thought you'd fall so far.  
Fallen angel, close your eyes.  
I won't let you fall tonight,  
Fallen angel._

Alvin noted how the chipette was calming down. It made him feel good inside, knowing that he was helping her. He didn't pity her at all; she didn't need it. He just believed that she deserved better. She had never wronged anyone, but why did it seem to be that bad things sought to befall her? It made him feel a bit angered inside as he recalled the night's tweets, but he beat himself up mentally to keep focused on the girl that needed his attention more than the evil that people did. __

 _You do it all for my own protection.  
You make me feel like I'll be okay.  
Still I have so many questions,  
How do you stay so strong?  
How did you hide it all for so long?  
How can I take the pain away?  
How can I save…_

 _A fallen angel, in the dark?  
Never thought you'd fall so far.  
Fallen angel, close your eyes,  
I won't let you fall tonight.  
Fallen angel, just let go,  
You don't have to be alone,  
Fallen angel, close your eyes.  
I won't let you fall tonight._

He finished the second part of the song and was nigh ready to do the bridge. He had been gradually increasing volume a bit, but it still wasn't too audible that it should wake Brittany, or any of the other chipettes. He had been singing into her face though, and although it was all a bit more than a whisper, it would be loud and clear to anyone who was awake…besides himself, that is.

He meant every word of it. She had stopped crying now, and he noticed how she seemed to have been inching towards him in her sleep and hugged him tightly to herself as one would a pillow. He was nearly knocked clean out of his wits, but he soon realized that he enjoyed the act. So much so, in fact, that he reciprocated the act in his way as well. But that small act of intimacy soon came to an end as Brittany's eye cracked open a small bit and smiled gently.

"Hey Alvin."

He didn't dare answer. He felt like he was caught in a very compromising position, but somehow, it didn't feel that bad. Like he _belonged_ at Brittany's side. Whether it was out or in, in public or private, up or down, standing together or even hugging together in a bed that he trespassed. He didn't feel like actually trying run away, but he knew that if she told him to leave, he'd do it whether he wanted to or not. It wasn't as if he had a choice.

"Why'd you stop? I was enjoying it," she whispered into his face, her breath feathering his nerves there like tiny kisses. He trembled a bit from the sensation and he tried to bring himself to understand what she had just said.

"Huh? The song?" He asked in a bewildered tone.

"Yeah. The song," she affirmed.

"How much did you hear?" He had to know.

"I woke up just before you started, but I didn't open my eyes."

"That was…" He wanted to chastise her, but he didn't have the heart to do it. Especially not when she was so close to him physically, mentally and emotionally. Alvin found it hard to go adverse to her.

"Will you finish?" She asked softly. "I really want to hear it." His face lit up in a smile when he heard that and decided to oblige her. __

 _I was right beside you  
When you went to hell and back again  
I was right beside you  
When you went to hell and back again  
And I, I couldn't save, a fallen angel_

 _A fallen angel, in the dark  
Never thought you'd fall so far  
Fallen angel, close your eyes  
I won't let you fall tonight  
Fallen angel, just let go  
You don't have to be alone  
Fallen angel, close your eyes  
I won't let you fall tonight  
Fallen angel~._

He petered out at the end, but as he did, he finally fell asleep as his commitment was met. He did do so quite suddenly, but Brittany didn't mind. She didn't have the heart to wake him just to tell him her opinion of it. If anything was sure, was that he was referencing to her early days since the tragic summer of her adoptive mother's death, and she couldn't help but wonder how he could craft the lyrics for what she thought was an impromptu song.

As he snored quietly, she gazed thoughtfully into his face and tried to think of his bad qualities. She believed everything that she told Dave, and she was sure he didn't have a single bad bone in his body and if he did, he was trying to mend them. It was as if he was trying to make himself into a better version of Alvin Seville but for what? For whom?

That last one gave her the shakes as she recalled what she had told her sisters. They really were made for each other, as Theodore said that he and Eleanor were trying to make their relationship work, and Simon let it slip that he and Jeanette were together, although he refused to give any details about it. Jeanette was the same.

Why was she thinking about this so much anyway? What mattered here and now was that she and Alvin were together. Although not on the level of their siblings, she knew they were really close.

Alvin had showed that he was willing to go a long way for her, and Brittany realized that soon she should be ready to do the same. But for now-…

"Thanks Alvin," she said with a large smile on her face. "Goodnight!" She half-exclaimed before planting a large kiss on his forehead before dropping off to sleep herself.

 **=X=X=**

Dave heard that all was quiet now in the bedroom. But just to make sure, he entered fully into the suite and headed to the bedroom and saw his son asleep in the double bed with Brittany. He wasn't sure what emotion to feel, but if one thing was sure, 'The Talk' was necessary, but perhaps it could wait 'till when they got back home in the west.

He grinned a bit as he gazed at the two asleep in each other's arms and wondered if they were officially in a relationship yet, and if they did, if they were ready to take it public. But such thoughts needed their own time, but it was time for sleeping.

He decided that he should cover them with the top-sheet, but as he approached the bed, he suddenly heard his phone ringing back in his suite. Suddenly feeling frustrated all of a sudden, he left the chipettes' suite in a hurry to get to his own. He closed the door behind him and went straight to his phone that was on a table close to the entrance of his hotel room. However, as soon as he answered the number, he heard the door from across the hall (the chipettes' door, he realized) open and close. Then, the person on his phone hung up.

"What? Hello? Hello?"

No answer.

Annoyance was forefront of the man's emotions as he reopened the door to look over at the chipettes' suite. All seemed fine, he believed as he checked the room(s). As he left, the thought of a prank call irritated him and decided to call back the person to give them a piece of his mind. It was nearly one in the morning!

He went into his call log and selected the number so the call was made. The ringing barely lasted a second when he heard an automated operator's voice:

" _The number you are trying to reach is no longer available…"_

 **=X=X=**

Vincent was rolling another joint of marijuana before he licked the last edge and used the bit of saliva as an adhesive to keep it together. Lamar flicked out his lighter and the metal instrument sprouted its gas-fed flame. Lighting up, the metal-rapper took a long drag on the green poison and let it bring him to heights on an unphysical plane. "Those rats are still here on my turf, huh?"

Lamar nodded and nudged the laptop forward to his respected higher-up. The men then watched the end of the concert that had happened tonight and they were more or less surprised to see the one dressed in red pull off something that looked like a spectacular feat. It was genuine…no wires. "Brat's got talent, I'll give him that. Say, where's the groupie?"

"She's out on her assignment. She says that she hacked into the cameras long ago, and that they won't pick up on that warning we put out to the purple one."

"Well, she's doing her job, then," Vincent muttered. "Well, so we hit the green one already, the purple one got the message…who next? And then the important question is," the man grinned at this, "what to do to 'em?"

"I say that this red one and the pink girl think they're on top o' the world right now," Lamar spoke rather easily. "They need to eat some humble pie. I can flip a coin between the boy one and the girl one."

"Sure, brother." Vincent sounded congratulatory and approving. "You can flip your coin, and you can do whatever to the one you get."

The big man produced a coin from his pocket and held it up. "Heads for the boy, tails for the girl."

Vincent nodded, and the man flipped the coin. Catching it deftly when it came down in his right hand, he then slapped it onto his left wrist to showcase the result. "Which side did you get?"

Lamar showed him.

 **=X=X=**

Alvin's eyes snapped awake, seemingly a second after he felt that he had fallen asleep. However, to his surprise, it was morning. Just another dreamless sleep, he thought as light streamed in through the window. Leaning up, he stretched and tried to gather his bearings. Soon enough, he realized that he was in the chipettes' bedroom.

With a sudden flinch, he threw himself out of the bed to his side unto the ground. It was carpeted, so he didn't really feel it. What he felt, however, was the sense that he had to leave as soon as possible.

Leaning up slowly, he peered over the edge of the bed. Brittany was nowhere to be seen, but Eleanor and Jeanette were still asleep. He presumed that two out of three was still a passing grade, 'cause Brittany had caught him last night already. Thinking about it made him feel all sorts of ways inside, but mostly good ones. With that in mind, he pulled on his clothes; keeping an eye on the last two chipettes should that begin to awaken. His cap was last on as he hurried to make his way out of the danger zone, but during his haste to leave, he wondered.

"Where's Brittany?"

 **A far shorter chapter than the previous one, but I've decided to leave you all on a cliff-hanger. I believe that I've made a few small leaps with developing Alvittany, so yeah, all's fairly realistic, right? Fair?**

 **I'm sorry, I'm being cruel and I'm trying to justify it! :(**

 **However, I can be troll-ish, 'cause while I like it when people try to guess what's happening, I like to leave a few crumbs, but I scatter them around a maze. I'm the only person looking at everything with a bird's eye view. Anyway, see you next time. Don't forget to review if you feel like you've found something to comment on.**

 **Valete omnes,**

 **MRAY 4TW.**


	22. Chapter 22

**AATC: Territory**

 **Well, it's another chapter. I started working it just one day after his death. Poor Lion. People will think he was just a pet but that dog was one of my best friends. I suppose it's my fault; I've always felt closer to animals than actual people. I was there petting his head and stroking his side right up until the very last…right at six p.m.**

 **Take care, Lion, I'll treasure the time you've spent with my family. All those years. Aw, damnitall! It's been too soon!**

 **(Passing: September 06, 2016)**

 **=X=X=**

 **My seemingly petty grievances aside (sorry for trying to put you through that when I know that you couldn't care less If you tried), it's time for chapter 22, and it's been left on a cliffhanger. But…I did leave some foreshadowing in the previous chapter as to what's going to happen, so today's outcome shouldn't surprise you. Back to the action/adventure aspect of the fic, don't you agree? But just a warning; I had some writer's block. Something that has surprised even me.**

 **22.**

"Where's Brittany?" Alvin asked himself. He checked all around the suite for any clue as to indicate that she was still around. There was none (that was obvious, anyway) that she was. A full suit of clothes were gone, as were her cellphone and the like.

She was out. As in, gone _out_.

In this _**CITY?!**_ This same city that is likely to be run by someone jealous of them and was highly territorial?!

He knew what had happened to Theodore. He knew what had happened to Jeanette; Simon had told him. He knew the theories that Simon had shared with him; he and his blue brother alone of the sextet, and some extent, Jeanette, knew all that was happening to them, and a tight-lipped Dave that probably knew more than he let on.

But that wasn't the issue now.

The issue, was that Brittany Miller, his significant other, was **out there!**

He didn't quite feel up to the task of telling himself that he wasn't feeling something for the chipette. He still wouldn't call it love, but for him to go the lengths that he did for her showed that she meant more to him than more than just a few people combined. It might even be at a point in which if he had to choose between the fates of his brothers and Brittany herself, his brothers just might be in trouble. Such was how powerful his bond was for her.

And if anything ever happened to her while he could've done something to prevent it, he'd nip off the person responsible, and do something irreplaceable to himself.

God help him. This chipette had too much of a hold over him.

He couldn't stand to be separated from her. He couldn't stand not beholding her. He couldn't stand not being able to hear her. He couldn't stand not being with her.

This girl…what kind of standing did she hold him in?

He temporarily squashed the thought as he darted out the door.

 **=X=X=**

It'd been a good morning. Brittany had had a wonderful sleep the night before. She hadn't felt so well rested since before the previous summer. Although she hadn't slept for a full eight hours, she could tell that she had felt far more at peace than she had ever been.

And she had come to this realization _after_ her eyes had opened to reveal Alvin sleeping next to her.

Her face heated up, but she didn't flinch away, nor did she try to make an effort to hide it. She didn't even try to wake the boy next to her to run him from her bed.

And why would she? In fact, why **should** she? She certainly _didn't_ want to. In fact, she was almost sorry that no one else was seeing. If someone else was awake and seeing her, she would've acted along the lines of being nonchalant about it.

But that thought was shoved to the backburner as the pink Miller collected herself as she continued to look into his face. They were scarcely six inches away from each other; both were lying bellies down and had their heads turned to one another's. The only difference between them was that the Seville of the two was still asleep, and Brittany couldn't take her winter eyes off of his face.

She liked this side of him. He was calm, now that he was unconscious and not running around on some erratic spree. With shyness, she eased her hand up out of the sheets and cupped his cheek. Without any prompting, she traced his jawline that was coming in; it was squaring due to puberty. A metamorphical stage in adolescence she was no stranger to, and started to wonder if she seriously had budding feelings for her counterpart. The boy who seemed to be insistent on being a part of her life, well, now she wondered if she wanted him in it. Hell, she wondered if she wanted him to be a part of it.

A pair.

She felt him moving in his sleep, but she did not remove her hand. In fact, she was the one who was surprised at seeing him seemingly press himself into the cool of her palm; he was gravitating to her touch.

'Did he do this with everyone? Or is it just me?' She mused. 'And then again…why am I encouraging this?'

Obviously she did, as she was now stroking it. Another minute of the ministrations went by before she reluctantly stopped. But whether it was for better or for worse, she leaned in closer to him, effectively cutting the six inch distance in half, being now even closer in form.

But in spite of the proximity in physical being, how close were they mentally? Spiritually? Emotionally?

Did they love each other?

All that they did, they did for the betterment of the other. All that they did, they must have done it keeping the other in mind. All that they did told the world that they loved each other. But were they ready to admit that to one another?

That was a new thought. 'Admit?' She asked herself mentally.

All those songs they sung…they sang what they truly meant. They sang from 'the heart'. That sounded sappy and dopey, but it was true. They couldn't lie when they sang.

And all those songs… all those lyrics…

…

 _You were standing in the wake of devastation._

…

 _You were there, impossibly alone._

…

 _The ones that we love are here with me._

…

 _She's a ten, I'm a joke in my own mind._

…

 _This love found us, now I see it._

…

 _Love's in the air, baby I care, oh and by the way._

…

 _You make me happy!_

…

 _Clap along if you feel good being here now with me,_

…

 _Clap along if you know that our feelings are real,_

…

 _Clap along if you know happiness equals us two,_

…

 _Nothing makes me happier knowing I'm the one with you._

…

 _We're alright; he and I will be just fine._

…

 _Too in love to care, don't waste your time!_

…

 _i won't let you fall tonight, Fallen Angel._

 _..._

 _You don't have to be alone._

 _..._

Where did they stand? Now, it felt like the question that should be asked was how strong were their feelings for one another, not just whether or not they had it in the first place.

Brittany smiled as she slid out of the bed on the other side. But the smile…it didn't leave. It never left her while she put on her clothes, grabbed some of her cash for a little expedition and kissed a sleeping Alvin goodbye on the cheek.

"You can get some more sleep, Alvin. I'll soon be back…"

 **=X=X=**

Alvin yanked the door open and dashed out, slamming the door rather loudly upon his exit. He couldn't calm himself down, as the highs of his emotions kept it raging. He couldn't believe it; _Brittany_ was on her **own** in this **city.** This one!

"Oh no! I've gotta find her!" He scream-muttered to himself. He punched the elevator button repeatedly once he got to it, as if his doing so would accelerate its progress to his floor. As soon as he came, he was already inside already, and thankfully, no one was in there.

He was on his way to the ground floor in an instant, and while inside the elevator, he paced in half-steps around, trying to calm himself down, but failed on multiple tries. All the while, he cursed himself out and in the meantime, his thoughts meandered to how he had avoided sleeping in the same suite as his father to avoid his ire and how he and Brittany had shared a bed.

A blush crept over his face, but he soon forced it to recede. However, it came back as he recalled that he had sung to her, and that was something he had never done before. Why would he do it here? Why now? Why ever, in fact?

It brought him back to the earlier point; he 'may' be falling for _the Brittany Miller._

"No. I don't." He muttered. "But…I guess that even if it's true, why'd she like a guy like me?"

The elevator slid open and he was brought back to himself. There was no time to waste. With nary a second thought, he was off again through the lobby of the hotel. He wasn't cautioned to stop, or at the very least, he didn't _hear_ any, so he kept up. However, as he made it to the glass door and threw it open, his heart lurched dangerously…in relief and happiness.

"Brittany?" He asked softly. "Thank God you're alright," he mumbled. It was just high enough for the chipette he nearly outright ran into hear and she smiled gently. Alvin, all of a sudden felt a rush of weariness sag through him and he nearly collapsed but he regained his composure. It wasn't exhaustion in the least, as he was well rested. It was more emotionally and mentally, as he had had a trying time ever for a long time now, but he had just now eased into a period of good happenings. Like a traveller allowing themselves to sag once they've reached their destination.

"Of course I'm alright." Brittany answered as a retort, minus the bite she almost always carried in her hurtful responses. "Why wouldn't I be?"

He didn't feel up to the task of explaining in status of Miami to her, nor did he want to divert the topic of how she shouldn't be just strolling around carelessly. It would've made him sound too controlling, so he went with the easiest route. "It's just me, Brittany. I guess I'm just a worry-wart."

"Aw!" She beamed. "I guess that's your 'macho' way of saying that you care."

The chipmunk laughed embarrassedly. "Yeah, yeah." His eyes fell down closer to her sides and he regarded the bags that she held at her sides. "You went shopping?" All of a sudden, he felt silly. What had he been worrying about again?

"Yeah! I went shopping for breakfast!"

"Oh! Cool!" He replied, but there was a certain look on her face when she spoke again, and he couldn't quite place what it was.

"I went shopping for _our_ breakfast."

He gulped nervously. "You mean for everyone right?"

"No. For the both of _us_. Besides, we're the only ones who're awake."

What was she playing at? Breakfast for the both of them? And her reasoning that it was because they were both awake was flimsy. How would she know that he was awake, or even would be by the time she got back? This was too far-fetched. All of a sudden, he felt concerned. What was she planning?

Maybe there was a way to go around this.

"Why didn't you just wake me up? We could've just gone to where you ordered it and have the breakfast there. You wouldn't need to carry it."

"We wouldn't have the privacy in the breakfast place, either. Now c'mon. Let's head to the roof."

Alvin could only nod dumbly.

 **=X=X=**

The hacker booted up her laptop. At the boot menu, it prompted her to choose between Windows 10, and the other one, Kali.

It was no secret (or at least it wasn't for the people who were well informed) that Kali Linux was basically a hacker's number one choice for...well, **hacking**. The operating system was basically a Hacker's ideal paradise, and she appreciated the tool. She could get by without it easily, but she could never deny the luxuries it afforded her, she thought as she chose the Kali to boot up her machine.

Like breaching the security cameras. Just a simple passwords breach and she was good to go. Perhaps she should create an Auto-run file and a Batch file while she was doing it so she wouldn't have to run the hack every day. It'd be more automated. Something as simple as that could be done with Notepad.

After a minute, she was in, and she resumed her own monitoring of the sextet. She only had a half-hour of monitoring before her hack could be detected and she'd have to restart, so she'd better move fast. She first checked up on the chipettes, but there was no bustle in the living area. There were no cameras in the bedrooms as that could have been deemed as too much of a breach in privacy by the Hotel, and the hacker had the same notion too...sometimes. Good thing she had her own camera in there, but it wasn't a live feed to her computer. Everything had to be recorded and saved on a removable storage device like a Memory Card, and that was it.

Speaking of which...

She reached over to where her pants was draped over a chair and picked it up, rooting through the pockets. After a while of searching the one she suspected it to be in, her eyes widened and she began to search the other ones.

"Oh no, oh no, oh no!" She fussed. "Where is it?"

Then a memory came to her of her episode in the chipettes room. Did she drop the card in there?

"...Damn it."

 **=X=X=**

Alvin flipped open the fiber clamshell takeout box he took from Brittany. "Pancakes from IHOP®?"

"Yeah." She flipped open hers to reveal her own. "I knew you loved 'em, so I bought 'em."

He looked to and fro as if searching for eavesdroppers, although there was no one about on the roof so early, that is, seven in the morning. He then leaned forward and cupped his mouth as if to whisper privately. "How did you know that banana pancakes were my favourite? Not even Dave knows!" **(1)**

Brittany rolled her eyes at this. "Alvin, I know you, and I know that you should probably wear a shirt that says 'I heart banana pancakes' all over it."

His jaw dropped in disbelief. "Seriously?"

"I'm joking, Alvin. Besides, you told me back in the hospital last summer. When you decided to break every bone in your body to show off in a parkour video."

The red Seville had the decency to blush in half-shame while he held up his arms to protest. "That's an exaggeration!" He started eating a bite of his pancakes and his eyes widened. 'Wow, that's good. They even topped them with banana slices!'

"It's not exaggerating!" Likewise, she tried her own pancakes, but it was topped with a sort of cream of strawberry. Whoever decided to make a restaurant that had breakfast all day certainly had a good idea, 'cause she could see herself suddenly finding this to be as good as any dessert to be had at any time. A shame about the potential calories though. "Besides, you basically begged me in the hospital to get some banana pancakes for you. It was as if you hadn't eaten in days, and since your arms were in casts, I had to feed it to you."

The fourteen year-old-Seville hung his head. "Darn. That was so..."

"Nice of me to feed you?" His companion deadpanned.

"I was going to say embarrassing, but sure, how nice of you it was," he replied in sarcastic agreement.

"I'm feeding you right now." She said in between bites of pancake. "Next time, it's your treat."

Alvin started sputtering. "Huh? What is this, a date or something? A quarrel about who's picking up tabs?"

Brittany wouldn't say another word, and that scared him the most.

Was this a date?

"It's not a date, it's not a date," the boy began to say in mantra, much to the Miller's chagrin. She was about to get upset, as she had envisioned that this could have been one to ease the two of them into a closer relationship. It didn't necessarily have to be between boyfriend and girlfriend, because friends had get-together dates too. Why would he say this; was he actually saying that he didn't want to date her?

With all her years as Alvin's counterpart, she had fancied herself as being one who could read Alvin like a book whenever she was ready. When he was happy, sad, elated, pissed at someone, and so on. Right now, he came off as someone who either:

-Did **not** want to accept something as what it was.

Or

-Was afraid of **admitting** something.

There was a slim difference between the two, but she hoped it was the second one, as the second one was the lesser of two evils. But she was prepared to risk it all with her next question. To see if they could actually come to be in a relationship, or crash and burn. Perhaps from the flames, a friendship could be salvaged, but that was it.

"So what if it is?" She challenged.

He stopped his stupidity right then and there. He could only stare dumbfounded at the chipette, who began eating again as if she had said nothing wrong.

Well, she hadn't said anything **wrong** , but that wasn't the point. But did she really just say what he just heard? Because it really, _really_ sounded as if this was in actuality a date. Suddenly, he didn't what emotion to feel.

"Well...this isn't awkward at all," he said seriously.

"Don't make this into a situation, Alvin."

"I won't," he stated as if he was promising it. But how was she going about this so easily? Was she trying to get him riled? Was this actually a joke?

And yet...he found himself hoping that she was serious.

"Brittany?"

"Yeah?"

"Is that cream of strawberry good?"

"Uh huh."

"Can I try?"

"Sure. I wanna try your banana pancakes too."

With a nod and a lack of ceremony, they swapped their flip boxes and each tried the other's pancakes.

Cut, bite, chew, swallow. Nods of approval. Re-swap boxes.

This felt pretty normal.

They continued on in silence, and Brittany could feel herself growing more and more uncomfortable. She needed a good conversation topic to finish off the meal with, then they could take a walk. She hadn't really gotten to stretch her legs since coming here to Miami, and she wouldn't mind seeing the sites. Besides, what happened last time in Richmond (her unfortunate mugging) served as a warning that she probably shouldn't go off alone, and what could she say? Alvin made for good bodyguard protection. The thought made her smile. "Say, Alvin. How did you even end up in my bed last night?"

"I was hiding out from Dave. _Again_ ," he said simply, as if it was obvious. "I can't believe that he'd embarrass me like that in front of everybody! I didn't do anything wrong! He was all like 'Alvin, don't do this', and 'Alvin, I thought you were maturing.'" He mimicked his father poorly on purpose.

"That sounds really mature of you," Brittany answered dryly. "Does he know that you do age-appropriate and accurate imitations too?"

"Har-har, very funny. I just had to get away. And when I got back to the hotel, I…uh…snuck into your bed just so I could get to sleep. I was going to leave before you even woke up this morning too, but I guess I failed at that too." He became nervous, hoping that she wasn't about to throw a fit about it. But to his surprise, the chipette smiled at this broadly as if she was pleased. He had no idea why.

"That's fine. Besides, I got to hear that song last night too."

"I hope it wasn't too sappy, Brit. I started off just hoping you wouldn't wake up, but to be honest, it made me happy to sing to you. But the next time, I'm charging you for it."

She upturned her nose at this with a grin. "Hmph. Figures you'd say that. C'mon, let's go walk this off. We don't have too long before Dave will want us to practice for this evening. We're going back to the same auditorium for the second show. Then we can take it easy for the rest of the weekend."

"Sure." On the inside, he felt relieved that what had just occurred was played off as nothing serious, but he felt strange. Confused even. Was he happy that it wasn't a date? Or disappointed? She had, after all, taken out the food so they could have it in private. He could feel that something was either amiss, or something was gained.

Now they were going to walk to help the meal digest but now, he felt all of those emotions turn into premonition…and dread.

Something was going to happen.

"Um, maybe we should stay at the hotel today, Brit. I don't think we should go out."

She regarded him with a strange look as she took up their now empty flip-boxes to clear the table. As they walked past a bin, she dropped the garbage inside and she answered his rather strange request. "Are you really Alvin? The Alvin I know is a guy who can't stand to stay indoors, and would've leapt at any chance to go out." 'Is it me? Does he want to be alone?' Alvin could hear disappointment leaking into her voice.

"No, it's not that." Like that, the feeling died down and he felt better. He finally ignored the dregs of it and pushed them down deep inside himself to forget it and he turned back to Brittany with a cheerful smile, although it was a flash-in-the-pan one.

"Sure. I'm the same Alvin. Let's go!"

 **=X=X=**

"Damn it, I better get going to get that memory card," the hacker mumbled. "Maybe they haven't woken up yet."

She quickly checked out the suite and saw that only Jeanette and Eleanor were in their beds still fast asleep. She grew apprehensive at not seeing the third, but she grew calmer when she saw Brittany leaving with Alvin via the outside cameras. They looked happy, and the empathetic hacker felt a bit glad as well. Maybe they'd finally get together. It was about time, anyway.

Her phone rang. A quick check of the number and she was already hesitant to pick up the phone. After a moment to steel herself, she answered.

"Good morning," came her flat greeting.

" _Mornin',"_ came the reply on the other end of the line. It was Ravin' Raven, no doubt calling her for another task. _"I've been thinking about what you did the other day with the purple one."_

"Jeanette?" The hacker asked.

" _Well, whoop-de-f*ckin'-do. You even know her name."_

"Of course I do. I was the one who basically introduced them to you on YouTube." 'Man, I regret that, but he'd have found out about 'em anyway since they're basically in his state.' The hacker mused. "Besides, I'm watching them."

" _From what I believe, you might be_ _ **watching**_ _out for them."_ The man's tone was serious. _"I hope you ain't turning into a damn weasel. When and where I grew up, we shot 'em between the eyes."_

Was he threatening her? Well, of course he was. Was she intimidated? Not that much, actually.

"I did no such thing. Now, why did you call, and so early in the morning?"

" _Lamar needs closed-circuit camera exploits of the city. He says he only needs it for fifteen minutes."_

What on earth for? The hacker wondered. 'Why the hell would he want the exploits? That's basically asking to spy on everybody for a whole quarter-hour. What the hell? I need to calm down. He must want to watch someone in particular. It must be the chipmunks and chipettes. But why didn't he just say the hotel? Damn it, this is for the streets of the city! Wait…shit.' The hacker realized. 'Brittany and Alvin just left the hotel, and they're on the road.' She tried to compose herself before she asked a seemingly innocent question. "That's a big demand. Why everything for so long? Fifteen minutes is a lengthy exploit."

" _Maybe I'll tell you…if you tell me what that Japanese was for. When it was that Jeanette or-whatever-she's-called turn to get warned. On the sign. 'I want to' followed by some kinda Japanese, then it said 'the six'. The Japanese shit is obviously a verb. I want to know, and then I could tell you."_

 _ **(1 want 2**_ _ **セーブ**_ _ **the 6)**_

'The Japanese part, huh?' "Those are two different words," the hacker lied smoothly, "and it has multiple meanings. The one I use it for means 'watch'." The lie was executed superbly.

 _"Well, that kinda fits in with what you've been doing,"_ the man on the other end of the line admitted. _"Lamar is going to trail the two that left the hotel. One of them got chosen."_

"Really?" The hacker tried her best not to sound too interested. "Which one?"

 _"Who cares? I just wanna see who bites the dust."_

The hacker heard a click, signifying that Vincent had hung up his phone. With her heart in her mouth, the hacker decided that the memory card lost in the chipette's bedroom had to wait.

One, or two lives (knowing Lamar's nature) was in danger.

And she was the only one who knew.

Furthermore, she was the only one who could do something about it. Hopefully, her best would be good enough.

 **=X=X=**

"Wait a minute!" Alvin yelled at the top of his lungs.

On recoil, Brittany covered her right ear, having suffered the most from his outburst. "Shout a little louder, why don't you, huh?"

"Did a strange man sell you the pancakes?" Alvin fretted.

"No, no." 'Is that all? He's worried over getting poisoned?' The chipette thought. "You think I'm gonna get us poisoned?"

"No. But then again," he adopted a mischievous look. "Did **you** do something to my pancakes?"

Her response was to push him away with her right hand at the shoulder, sending him half stumbling as he laughed regardless. "Har-de har, Alvin."

"It's hilarious."

"No, that's dumb. Besides, I tried your pancakes too, y'know." She put her hands on her hips while she pouted. "Geez. Think, why don't'cha?"

The morning was pleasant. It had started off as partly cloudy, and it was becoming clear that it might rain before the end of the day. The state was generally hot, but the clouds offered good cover against the sunlight. The two singers walked on the path…well, the female of the two walked on the path, and the male more less hopped from cracks to cracks and walked on the edge of the sidewalk whenever he could. That was Alvin, she supposed. Even walking normally was too boring for him. "Say, Alvin?"

"Yeah?"

She looked like she wanted to say something important, but was hesitant. Instead, she settled for a less tumultuous topic. "Why'd you even sing to me last night?"

"I didn't mind," came his curt reply. "Besides, I guess it's your turn to serenade me next time. Err…not in a romantic way of course," he added hastily.

"Of course not. But you must have a lot of patience to put up with me."

"You're my friend, Brittany. Nothing more, nothing less."

She became crestfallen, and Alvin became worried he had offended her. "Did I say something wrong?"

"…No." She answered at last. "You didn't say anything wrong." She looked away for a minute, and saw that they needed to cross the road soon, as the entrance to the park was coming up on the other side of it. It was one of the busier streets, but fortunately, there was a crossing bridge. The entrance to cross it was about fifty feet away. But as she looked at the bridge and the road, a feeling of apprehension washed over her and she shivered a bit; she hadn't felt like that since the night before Ms. Miller's passing. It worried her, and she wondered if something awful was about to come to pass. Turning back to Alvin, she saw him flash a smile. It looked faked, but since it was, it meant he felt less than happy too. It could have been her current behaviour, and he was making an effort to not make her feel bad. Either that or he was displeased with himself.

Who knew?

"Well, better friends than enemies, huh?" She commented. "I remember we used to be at each other's throats. You'd pull a prank, I'd get vindictive, you'd pull another prank, I'd get even more bitchy and then the adults would have to intervene."

"You're not bitchy, Brit," Alvin said in apologetic tone. "In fact, you could never be that way. Besides, I've met more than a few of the girls at school who could be bitchy even in their sleep. You were just lashing out because I…well, I shouldn't have been pranking you in the first place. Sorry, even if that's years late."

"It hasn't been years yet," she replied coolly. "But I guess it's nice that I don't have to be on my toes worrying about the next balloon of paint that's going to give me a makeover."

"That red paint looked good on that time, though."

"It's because you don't like pink, isn't it?" She asked warily with a stink-eye raised.

"No." He raised both hands as if to placate the irate girl. "I love it. It especially looks good on you, even."

"It'd better, Mister Seville." She turned away from him, now considering something else. Was that a compliment? He had always used to say that 'pink was an abomination of red', but he used to say as if he meant it, not just to annoy her. What happened? Something was changing, somewhere.

They made it to the bridge and as they took a step unto it, Brittany felt the earlier feeling once more. A bad one. Something was happening, or was going to happen. As they ascended up the staircase of it, Alvin's phone rang. It was a snatch of a tune from a song from Three Days Grace, one of his favourite bands, she recognized. The bridge was the ringtone, and it played out while he was fumbling to get it out, obviously embarrassed. The Miller, on the other hand, had to raise an eyebrow at the lyrics.

 _~So many thoughts that I can't get out of my head  
I try to live without you, every time I do I feel dead  
I know what's best for me  
But I want you instead  
I'll keep on~_

He finally got his phone out and chuckled shamefacedly. "Heh heh," he opened up on the call. "Hello?"

" _Hey Alvin, it's me, Valerie. Dave's all over the place and he wants you and Brittany back at the hotel to get ready for practice. I'm covering for you, but you should get back as soon as you can."_

"Huh? Alright then." Alvin thanked the woman and hung up. Brittany asked him who it was, but Alvin merely told her that it was Valerie calling for both of them to head back. By this time, they were at the top and had made it halfway across the bridge, mingling with a couple passers-by who crossed the bridge along with them, some one way and some the next way. At the same time, Brittany got a text notification on her own phone and she pulled it out easily to read it. "Hmm...who's this?"

 _1 want 2_ _セーブ_ _the 6: Go home. You're in trouble. Remember what happened to Theodore and Jeanette._

What? Remember Theodore and Jeanette? What had happened to Jeanette? Who the frack was this? Was Brittany's racing thought. She had no time to dwell on this though, as a big burly man pushed her aside roughly. "Hey! Take it easy!" She was about to vocalize her protests more but all sounds died in her throat when she saw the man's shirt emblazoned with the bold words 'GO HOME' on it across the chest. That was all she had time to observe before her companion decided to make himself heard.

"Hey! Watch it, you lard-ass!" Alvin yelled at the top of his lungs at the giant of a man, who merely smirked in contempt of the boy's insult. "Can't you go throw your weight around somewhere else?!"

The chipmunk had spunk, and the man told him so. Then he called him a rat.

"A **rat**?!" Alvin's jaw quivered in rage. "I'm gonna-"

"Turn into roadkill." The man mumbled to himself. "Perfect scene, ironic insults, no less." He gave off the air of being someone who was immensely self-satisfied. He also had a theatrical vibe about him.

"What are you talking about?" Alvin hissed in his tempest. His only response was to get grabbed by the shoulders by the man's meaty fists and hoisted over the side of the bridge. Far below, vehicles drove nearly as fast as they could to get to their destinations as fast as they could, oblivious of the boy who was hanging over what could be defined as his fate. Alvin kicked his legs on instinct but couldn't feel any ground below him. Naturally, he panicked and tried to hold onto the man's hands, but he couldn't get a grip. Brittany was about to dash to him to offer her aid in any way she could...

To everyone's horror, the man let the chipmunk go.

 **1) I gave Alvin a favorite breakfast: Banana Pancakes!**

 **The excerpt of the song which is Alvin's inbound notification is from 'Over and Over' by Three Days Grace. I own not.**

 **Well, I guess that's it. The first part of this chapter was particularly difficult, and so was the ending. In fact, only the incident was the planned thing, and I'm not even going with the plan of it being a bride over water. I don't know Miami, and I like to use facts in my fics. Since I wasn't sure of high water bridges in the area where I put them, I went with something I'm sure every city has; an overhead crossing over a busy street.**

 **But the writer's block was a problem. That explains the substandard chapter. Hopefully I'll improve next chapter.  
I really wanted it to be a date, but I decided to give it a platonic vibe. So instead, everyone's favourite couple will remain as close friends for a bit more...that is, if Alvin doesn't get killed. How the hell is MRAY supposed to stop this?**

 **Stop by next time and find out.**

 **Valete omnes,**

 **MRAY 4TW.**


	23. Chapter 23

**AATC: Territory**

 **(October 6, 2016) [2:25 pm]**

 **Alright, I've found some time to type after making three updates to two other fics. I'm superhuman! Can you imagine what would happen if I was only working on this one? Yeah, I'd be done already.**

 **Anyway, for all those hardcore AATC fans who'd like to watch any AATC movie, any AATC episode (and I mean ANY), I recently found that my one of my favourite websites has all of them. From the most recent C.G.I. movie (The Road Chip) {HD quality} to the first animated one (Trick and Treason from 1997), the most recent episode of Alviiin! and the Chipmunks of season two to the first, FIRST episode of Alvin and the Chipmunks series from 1983. Well, I think AATC goes back farther than that, but I'm not an old man. :)  
But that's not the issue. You can go get your fix of AATC over there, if you didn't know about the site already, 'cause I'm usually late about things like this. I just…I got emotional when I watched the first episode from 1983 last night.  
Just run a search in the search box for any cartoon you want (AATC) in this case and you'll be fine. If you ever see a guy in the comments section by the name of Recharder, that's me. ;D**

 **The site is called kisscartoon . me**

 **I hope like it! BTW, if you don't like ads, watch in full-screen.**

 **MOVIN' ON!**

 **We've got us a cliffhanger. Let me take care of that.**

 **23.**

Fear.

Alvin had few fears. He had a fear of failure, or more like an intense dislike of it. He was afraid of death by fire, as he had heard stories and seen online videos of people who died like this; it looked to be so dreadfully painful.

Lastly, he was afraid for and of Brittany Miller.

She had always existed in a special place. He used to be at odds with her so much; they were at each other's throats so often that one had to wonder how one of them wasn't yet planted in the ground six-feet-under yet.  
The vindictiveness, the spitefulness, the horrible attitudes. It appeared that their rivalry would continue to keep them apart from each other and butt heads; they've been at it for years, like old professionals, garnering knowledge and tricks of the trade.

Then there was the accident.

He had always thought of her as a brick wall, like how he fancied himself to be. She stood up for her sisters, and he stood up for his brothers. She could lead, and he could too. She was a solo singer when she needed to be, and he was too. But all these traits took a backseat when she practically crumbled in upon herself. He shivered at night now sometimes when he thought about seeing her suicide note and the kitchen knife in the drawer. The wicked glint on the blade that was meant to aid the preparation of food looked so eager to spill living blood...

He was afraid _for her_.

He never imagined to find a new place for him at her side, and he felt like he belonged there. He was there when she needed him, and he himself felt bolstered with her beside him. They found that their similarities weren't to be argued over like two bulls in one pen. Rather, it was something to be shared with each other. Their similarities had brought them together, and it made them become more and more empathetic for each other's feelings and emotions. They couldn't lie to one another, really.

That made him afraid _of her_.

It had been a fear that nearly caught him off guard. He was afraid that one day, his soft spot for her would be his downfall. He threw himself onto the train tracks too often for her. All things had moderation, but his self-sacrificial behaviour must surely have a limit.

Didn't it?  
Apparently not.

He kept doing it, and soon, questions will soon begin to be asked, and since he found himself unable to lie to her...  
He was afraid that one day, she'd ask him about how he truly felt for her.

The answer couldn't be bad, right? After all, there was no good reason to avoid a relationship with the most intricate, beautiful, talented girl like Brittany Miller.

But that's the problem.

How does one go about erasing the misdeeds of their past? All those fights, all those pranks, the backbiting, the insults, the gripe.  
Time didn't erase their history. Personally, he felt like it would always be a wedge between them. Perhaps all that he was doing ever since the previous year was his way of being repentant to her. She wasn't wrong in the aspects of what they were doing to each other as kids; he had acted, and she reacted.

He knew that he was falling for her. But he had not yet fully atoned. He needed cleansing, and because of this, he felt like he was not worthy of her; the closest he would ever be to her was a friend, a shoulder in case his intervention was necessary.

But to be closer? For them to share all, for better or for worse, two as one against the world?

He was afraid that it would never happen, and he was even more afraid that he was right.

...

Alvin was not scared of heights, but it was hard not to be when he saw that for all of 25 meters separated him from the ground on which cars did their rush hour sprint. A fall like this was sure to break more than just his legs, if he didn't just go splat. And then a speeding car would more than likely have a driver who wouldn't react in time to his fallen body and run it over.

His breath caught at a constrict in his throat, and he found it impossible to breathe. His gaze averted from the man holding him up by the shoulders to Brittany, who was running up to the man and himself.

Then his horizon of the railing of the bridge started moving up; he was falling.

...

"Aaaaagghhh!"

"Alvin!" Brittany screamed as she saw her significant other falling from the man's grasp. "Noooo!" "Oh my God! Oh my God!" The temperature dropped in her; she felt as if something froze inside her and smashed into pieces. Unable to keep herself standing as her legs gave up on her, she fell onto her knees while tears streamed from her eyes. "No...Alvin..." she whispered. "Please be all right, please be all right, please be all right, please-be-all-right, pleasebeallright..." All her fears, all her hopes, all her belief, all her faith was invested in this, and she prayed. "God please let Alvin, be all right, please let Alvin be all right, please!"

The burly man who had done the despicable deed grinned down at her with a sickening look of satisfaction. "There ain't no Gods here, little girl. Only people who belong here, and those who're trespassing."

Somewhere along the line, Brittany snapped, and somehow this kept her sane. "You son of a bitch! You killed Alvin! He didn't do anything to you!" It came out rather awkwardly since her lips quivered and she was still crying; she was still grieving, and it made her look like a little child throwing a tantrum while she was yet still on the ground.

"Ha! Guilty on all counts. My mama was a whore." The mountain of a man ignored what few others who were on the bridge 'losing their heads' as he liked to call it and decided to take a look over the railing himself. The mood about him changed from smugness to disbelief in an instant. "I don't f*ckin' believe it..."

"Someone help me up!" A voice yelled at the top of their lungs.

A voice that Brittany knew all too well.

"Alvin?" She whispered. "Alvin?!" She had heard the cry coming from somewhere a bit under the bridge over the barricading, and before doubt could creep in and settle in her veins, she heard his voice again:

"Brittany?! Help me!"

She got unto her feet and rushed up to the big man's side to look down. "Alvin! Where are you?!" Her eyes scanned the bridge in a hurry before they landed on the boy who was holding onto the bottommost beam of the steel bridge and was trying his best to climb up. He was, and everyone around was watching him try his hardest to climb up the lateral support beams. They were like tiny fingerholds, so it was extremely taxing on his digits. Unfortunately, it was too small for his feet, so he was forced to use his fingers only to make his effort up.

And he was succeeding. But just barely.

The boy refused to speak anymore, lest he use up all of his oxygen and stamina that he needed for climbing. His face was the exact look of exertion, and the need to preserve his life as adrenaline surged through his being. Desperation fuelled his drive to save himself, and he kept climbing; something about seeing Brittany at the top looking down served to remind him of homing, drawing ever closer to her.

"These rats are more stubborn than I thought," Lamar muttered. "It was a terrific scene, too." He tugged aside the lower half of his shirt and grasped at an object that was fastened there in his waistband. To everyone's shock, he pulled out a handgun and all but Brittany on the bridge fled, screaming. The man took a moment to relish their reactions before pointing it at Alvin, who was like a fish in a barrel the way he'd be easy to pick off; his eyes widened. "All that effort just to get killed anyway."

Brittany felt like she was looking in from a different perspective. It was like she was looking over her own shoulder, and she was absent of all emotions in that moment, except her anxiousness and desperation to save Alvin. She threw her whole petite self against the mammoth of a man and from that hour onwards onto forevermore, she would never grasp how and why she was able to tackle the man with her left shoulder at the exact moment the gun went off with a resounding explosion that had everyone in the vicinity who had been blissfully ignorant to go screaming to get to cover.

Alvin clenched his eyes shut when he had seen the gun, fearful that he was about to die. However, he felt nothing, save for something to bump him on the head hard before bouncing off and falling with a clatter far below. He peeked through one eye to look far below to see that it was the gun lying there, and people here and there pointing up to him and chattering excitedly.

Turning his attention up again, he tried to ignore his badly weakening fingers as he struggled to finish climbing. "Brittany?! Are you alright?!"

"I'm fine, Alvin." He heard her say before she reappeared to look at him over the railing. "Are you alright?!"

"I'm fine!" He didn't speak anymore and tried his best to keep climbing, but his fingers were now entirely numb. He knew that by the time someone fetched him something to climb up on, he'd be long dead, and the prospect scared him. And he was so close...

Only a foot separated him from the top railing. Just twelve inches was between him and safety, and the alternative was a long way down to a cold ground that seemed welcoming for his arrival. His cap fell off of his head, and it fell languidly to the ground far below; he knew that his descent wouldn't go anything like that.

"Alvin! Grab my hand!" Brittany reached both of her hands down to him. It was warm, welcoming. She'd help him. He could reach a hand perhaps while trying to pull himself up, and then she would use weight and bearing to pull him up. It would be strenuous, he'd be as good as dead weight, but it was all he had. He'd have to let go and lunge all his body up and hope that she could catch him, and keep a good hold long enough to get him up and over back to safety.

Then there was a new option.

A protrusion glinted in the early sunlight, offering a large and more stable handhold. It was from a beam that stuck out; probably there from the bridge's construction but had never been cut off to 'make the bridge look better'. It was a blemish, and there was a chance that he could hold with his whole hand or two on the protrusion, but the problem was that he'd have to reach for it with his right hand, as it was to his right and half-a-foot close to the top. Once he dedicated himself to the act, he could lunge off to the right to grab it with his stronger hand, then finish getting up with his left hand. It'd be child's play to go after a ledge like that and climbing. It was child's play as he had done it before in practice; the only thing different was a sheer and steep fall below him to the pavement and not soft sand in a playground.

"Alvin! Grab my hand! Quick!" Brittany urged as she saw the confusion and inability to choose in his eyes. She followed his line of vision and saw the protrusion and back to him, now understanding why.

He couldn't make up his mind what to do.

Brittany wasn't as strong as him. There was doubt that she could pull his weight.  
He could certainly pull his own weight. There was no doubt about that.

It was a difficult choice.  
It was an easy choice.

 **BRITTANY'S HANDS or STABILITY BEAM.**

 **RELIANCE ON HER or RELIANCE ON SELF.**

 **SUPPORT FOR HIS WEAKER HAND FROM HER or SUPPORT FOR HIS STRONGER HAND FROM METAL.**

 **SHE CAN DO THIS | I CAN DO THIS.**

 **SHE IS STRONG | STEEL IS STRONGER.**

His grasp with his fingers were failing. Death was trying to get his attention and he answered the call. He looked down once at the ground below, before making up his mind.

Looking up once more, gazing both to the beam and Brittany, he lunged with all his might, all of his faith, might and convictions fuelling his choice. The choice based on knowledge, common sense, analysis, chance and which would ultimately save his life.

 _Please have some faith.  
I'm know I'm strong!  
I'll give it my all!_

 _I will not be scathed.  
I know where I belong!  
You won't let me fall!_

In that moment, Alvin's hand grabbed Brittany's hand at the palm, and she held fast with the selfsame hand as well as with her other. Her strength nearly faltered from his weight, but she braced her feet against the lower portion of the barricade and bit by bit, begun to pull him up.

"I've got you, Alvin! I've got you!" She exclaimed through clenched teeth.

The chipmunk's heart lurched dangerously as he committed to her pulling him up, and as he did, he eyed the beam once more as he passed it. It was rapidly fading from his memory, and without realizing it, felt his body pulled across the top and fell back onto the topside of the bridge where it was safe. With a jarring spill, he landed on the surprisingly soft floor, which actually reacted.

"Oof!" The 'floor' exclaimed.

As his brain tried to digest this, he opened his eyes to find that he was peering down into Brittany's face. Relief flooded his system as he realized that he was no longer in danger of dying, and he couldn't help but quote Brittany from last night's antic when she had fallen on him through the doorway. "Heh. Would you look at that... _I'm_ on top this time."

She flipped him off of her person. "You're welcome."

His mind caught up to what had happened, and he started trembling violently. He just sat on his rear on the floor of the bridge, and shook as he started going into shock. A classic case of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, and Alvin had it bad. Brittany could tell, as she was no stranger to the medical case. She huddled up next to him and hugged him tightly. "Shhh. You're safe now. You're safe, Alvin."

"I-I-I-I-I n-n-nearly d-d-d-died..." He hyperventilated and it affected his speech even more, but Brittany shushed him while she rocked him gently in her arms.

"But you didn't. You're safe, now."

"T-th-th-thanks, Brittany."

She started humming as she continued to rock him. "Alvin...I was so frightened. I thought I lost you."

His eyes averted from the ground to her as he heard her speak. "Thanks to you, Brittany. Thanks to you." He held up his shaking hands and noticed that his bluing fingers were getting back their colour after the previous exertion.

It was like something had broken down inside her. Like something important had died. She had never before felt anything of that degree, not even when Ms. Miller had passed. To think that Alvin could have been snatched from her like that by the jaws of death, it was horrible. She helped him up, and they walked as best as they could, leaning on each other emotionally and physically. She started to wonder is she was taking him for granted, and decided that she'd have to rectify that. A quick glance at him told her that he was still in shock, but he was coming out of it. She never thought that she'd see Alvin practically reduced to jelly like this, when she normally looked to him to be a symbol of strength. It did come through for him, but barely. As bad as he looked right now, she doubted that she'd look as good as he did had it been her in that situation.

"Say, where'd t-that l-lummox go? The big guy?" Alvin asked.

"He ran off when his gun dropped over the railing. He must've gone to pick it up. Then he left."

"That's good. I worried when I heard the gun go off. I thought you got hurt." His stutter was now gone, as did his trembling. He didn't need the support anymore, but he certainly wasn't going to tell Brittany to let go. He rather enjoyed it; a half-guilty pleasure.

"You're worrying over me when you were hanging off the side of the bridge? Aww, you."

They started to hear sirens now, but then Brittany felt her phone vibrate in her hip pocket before it began ringing audibly. To her amazement, it wasn't the usual ring tone, but what sounded like 'Every Step You Take' by The Police. She had no idea as to how something like that could've come about. And what was that strange name? It looked like a mixture of Japanese and English. With doubt and a small measure of fear after remembering the text from the person before they were attacked, she picked up the call.

"Hello?" She was nearly scared out of her wits when she heard the deep computerized bass of the voice that answered.

1 want 2 セーブ the 6: _"Are the two of you alright? Damn, I can't see anything that's going on."_

"I'm...We're fine?" She replied hesitantly. "Who is this?" Alvin himself was growing suspicious about the call from hearing how Brittany spoke and gestured to her to put it on loudspeaker. She did, and the person continued unaware.

" _That's good to hear. I should have gotten in touch with you from a while back. I was hoping that all of you would go back home."_

"I asked 'who is this'?"

" _There's a caller ID,"_ the bass said with a hint of amusement in the voice. _"But that's not important. Listen. I actually want to look out for you guys. It's just that my employer, or rather, the douche that I have to work for hates it when entertainers from other places come here to perform. He's like a jealous, territorial dog."_

"I think I heard Dave say something like this already!" Alvin said excitedly into the phone. "Can't you tell us who it is? Who's after us? I'm itchin' to put that guy in the hospital after what he did to me just now, not to mention Theodore and Jeanette's scare."

"Hold on, you _knew_ that someone was out to get us?" Brittany glowered at the boy with disbelief. "How come I wasn't told about this?"

"I wanted to tell you the same night you fell asleep on the roof, honest! But then you fell asleep, I didn't want you to worry, and then I basically forgot."

She rolled her eyes at this. "We'll talk about that later."

" _If the old married couple will stop arguing...pay attention! You need to get the hell out of Miami! Or get airtight private security! You can't mess with these guys!"_

"I can tell," Alvin responded with a small shake in his tone. "That guy practically threw me off the bridge. But can't you just do something? Or give us a name? Maybe they can get arrested?"

" _Look. Just so you know...I'm an accomplished hacker. I've hacked the crap out of the NSA's database last Tuesday just because I was bored. What does that say, huh?"_

"I don't know...that you belong in jail too?" Brittany deadpanned. "Alongside whoever the hell you work for?"

" _It's not like I work for him by choice-"_

"So it's a guy employer." Alvin interrupted.

" _Yes,"_ the voice replied. _"But basically, he can get away with anything he wants. Even the cameras that were supposed to be watching everything that streams to the Police Station won't have anything. The guy who assaulted you virtually owned the city's cameras for fifteen minutes, and all that footage is gone. Not even I had access. I tell you, I was worried. Even if you could identify the giant of a guy who nearly killed you, my employer would tell me to whip up an alibi of him being in another state. They're unstoppable."_

"No. **You're** unstoppable," Alvin corrected wisely. "Since you want to help us, why don't you help put them away."

" _I don't want to get shot in the head. There's no avoiding the gang that does the dirty work. Anyone could be working for my employer. I could only be going to the deli, only to killed by cyanide in a piece of ham. When they came to me, I either had to join or die. It was that simple."_

"Yikes."

" _But you're right. They need me. But they could be on to me about trying to warn you. I'm...tired. I'm tired of all the death and the BULLSHIT these guys go through and drag me along with them! But until I find myself in another country and they're in prison, I think you should just leave Florida. Go back home, please. It's not worth it here."_

The person then hung up abruptly. To their befuddlement, the timer to show how long the phone call lasted said zero seconds. It was a true sign of a hack, and Brittany turned to Alvin. "So you knew that someone was out to get us."

"We kinda found out from Dave and the doctor in the hospital that looked after Theodore."

"We?"

"Me, Simon and Jeanette, since she got attacked."

"Not even Theodore knows, and he got attacked first? How could you keep this away from me, from the rest of us?"

"What about Dave?" He argued weakly. "He knew from the start, probably before we started touring. He never wanted to come in the first place, but he came just because of his conscience or whatever."

"Oh?" She raised an eyebrow. "And then I go for a walk alone. No one's around, and I get murdered. Did you think of that?"

"I'm sorry Brittany! I'm sorry. I swear, I wanted to tell you, but us 'munks didn't want you chipettes to worry. At first we thought that it was like a dud warning." They ambled off the bridge and made a beeline back to the hotel. "Don't take it out on me. I nearly died, if you hadn't noticed."

"Yeah, I noticed," she answered coldly. "I'll get over it. But I don't want any secrets between us, okay?" She sighed while stroking her forehead. "I guess we're going to leave Miami, then. Just as I was getting used to the great weather, too."

"I doubt Dave will leave. We have to talk to Simon. Maybe he can figure out how to find this hacker, and find out what our next move is." Alvin mumbled.

"We'll just tell Dave that you nearly got killed, Alvin! He has to make us go home. I know it.

"We'll see."

 **Cliffhanger...resolved.**

 **I hope you enjoyed this instalment. The first thousand was done last night, and the next three took all of today to do. Back to playing video games, I guess! XD  
Later!**

 **Valete omnes,**

 **MRAY 4TW.**


	24. Chapter 24

**AATC: Territory**

 **Well, I started on Sunday evening. Hopefully, you'll be reading this by October 12** **th** **. But a new Website Project for my course is due to kick my ass.**

 **(October 9, 2016)**

 **24.**

Valerie eyed the red and the pink C & C singers as they passed her in the hallway to where their rooms were. "Took you guys long enough. Dave wanted everyone to get to practice. We should've been at the auditorium by 9 am-…" She trailed off as she looked closer. "Where are the two of you coming from anyway? A date?"

"Don't…start…" Brittany growled under her breath.

A measure of anger was evident in the way she walked, and Valerie couldn't ignore it. She held out a hand in Alvin's way while the pink Miller continued on her own to where everyone else was. "Hey, uh, what happened? Did you do something to her?"

"Ms. Protective, aren't you?" Alvin answered cheekily. "But yeah. I didn't tell her something important, and she's pissed at me."

"How important?"

"Life and death important. I should know, 'cause I was hanging off the side of a bridge not fifteen minutes ago."

"Oh…wait, what?"

…

…

…

"Oh…damn," Valerie hemmed after she had heard his explanation. "I wonder how Dave's gonna react. I know he cares about you guys, but this is borderline abuse! We've got to do something!"

"He won't do anything. Watch," Alvin mumbled in a depressed tone. "I'm getting worried myself. Whoever's after us is going after me, Brittany, Simon, Jeanette, Theo and Eleanor. But that's the thing." He walked off to the chipettes' bedroom where he was hearing fits in. "I hope nothing happens to Brittany. I really do." He looked down away from the woman's searching gaze while he opened the door. He didn't want to continue that particular line; it was between him and Brittany.

Upon entry, he saw Brittany chewing out Jeanette; he actually liked the mousy-like sister, as she was usually the one who kept the chipettes calm, cool and collected.

Apparently, she was failing, 'cause Eleanor was overhearing what the argument was about and was getting ready to jump into the fray.

"You knew about this?! How long, Jeanette?! Those guys who're out to get us!"

"Keep your voice down, Brittany, please!" The second sister begged. "Someone might be hearing us. I'll talk, I will!"

"Jeanette?" Eleanor said dangerously. "What is she talking about? Who's after us?"

The purple Miller was getting sandwiched by her younger and older sisters and she panicked. "I didn't want to say anything because I was threatened."

This was a first for everyone to hear, including Alvin. "What?" He momentarily asked, befuddled. "You already talked about the fracking car, so what kind of threat are you talking about?"

"I can't say!" Jeanette nearly bellowed. "Don't pester me about it, please!"

"Hey, hey," Simon entered after only knocking on the door once, not even realizing that the door had slighted Alvin when it had turned inwards. "What's all the hullabaloo? Dave's ready for us."

All eyes turned to him quickly, one green set that was curious, one lavender set that was relieved, one blue set that was anxious, and a set of winter-ice that glared with fury, as the owner recalled what Alvin had told her about who had helped him find out about Dave and the Doctor in the hospital. "You! You and Alvin and…and my own sister! You kept this from us!" She seethed with righteous anger. "I bet if it were you who had gotten hurt, you would have blabbed a long time ago!"

"Blab about what?" The blue Seville replied, suddenly not liking wherever this accusation might take him. "I don't know what you're implying."

"Well, whoop-de-doo. Simon is pretending not to know what we're talking about, what a shock."

"Simon." Jeanette said his name quietly, but the 'munk heard it like a plea to go along with whatever fate might have in store for them in this argument. "She knows that we're targeted."

Simon, for his part, didn't react much emotionally. In fact, all he really did was remove his glasses before cleaning it with a corner of his shirt and putting them back on. "Oh dear. I was hoping that these were isolated incidents…"

"Lie!" Brittany roared. "You should have said something from day one when Theodore got hurt!"

"We didn't know anything about it until the day after, Brittany!" Simon defended himself heatedly. "I then came to my conclusions, but I found them false when the man who poisoned Theodore got shot and killed in his apartment over some botched drug deal, which I'm starting to think was a set-up when Jeanette ran into trouble…no pun intended."

Only Jeanette and Alvin could understand what he meant by that, but no one was laughing; he wasn't trying to be comedic anyway. "Go on, don't stop." Jeanette urged. She hoped to keep attention off of herself, as the mysterious hacker had warned her not to say anything about them, particularly to Simon. She herself had seen the implemented traffic accident and the hacked jumbo-screens; she needed no further warning.

"I think he might have been in the employ of whoever's out to get us. I'm beginning to have suspicions as to who it may be, but that's all it is."

And it was at that point, Theodore bumbled in through the door, with Valerie in close tow. The entryway and the vestibule portion of the chipettes' hotel room were getting crowded, but no one minded. "Um, guys? Dave's getting impatient. He wants us all to get to practice. It's the same as yesterday-"

"I'm not going ANYWHERE until the people who're after us are in jail!" Brittany cut off in interjection. "They hurt my Alv…" She trailed off awkwardly, before gathering herself again. "They hurt my own family! I mean, she kept it from me, God knows why…"

"Sorry." Jeanette said meekly. "But it was for good reason-"

"I. DON'T. WANT. TO. HEAR. IT." Brittany stated forcefully. "Me and Alvin could've been killed not fifteen minutes ago, and you'd only find out on the news! What kind of reason could be good enough, huh?"

Simon felt bad about what he was going to say, but he knew he had to say it regardless. "It was Alvin's reason."

All eyes turned to the red Seville, and Brittany felt her blood pressure spike again. "Well, well, well. Simon? Would you kindly quote Alvin's reason, please?" She asked in a sickly-sweet voice. It was a voice that promised a feeling of regret to all those involved, and Alvin was feeling it the most.

"Alvin said, and I quote: 'Nah, it doesn't concern 'em. At least, not yet. When it does, we'll do.' That's what he said in answer to Theodore who asked if we should tell the three of you that something might be wrong. We didn't know at the time that things would escalate to this, but we still kept to the earlier agreement."

"But I was barely told about any of this, and I got poisoned! I was the first person to get targeted!" Theodore reminded, as he caught on to what the discussion was about, his errand for Dave forgotten.

Alvin sighed tiredly. "I'm sorry, okay? I really was. I was hoping and praying that nothing was wrong, and that everything was fine. I thought that Dave was just being as paranoid as always. I didn't want anyone to worry over what might have been nothing. If you want to blame someone, blame me. But I'm not the one who's out to hurt us!"

"Hmm…well, I can agree with that," Valerie replied for all there. "But everyone could have gotten warning. In fact, I went to Dave about something like this about a video on YouTube, but he said that nothing was wrong. He said if anything, it might have been a coincidence."

"What kind of coincidence?" Simon asked as his eyes narrowed to near slits. He was already upset over how Jeanette was assaulted, and he still had questions as to who could have phoned him and led her to him over technical exploitation of electrical signs. Now a video? This was getting more and more complicated and dangerous by the day.

"A bad one, yeah," Valerie responded with a frown. "I don't you should fight amongst yourselves. If anything, we should all pack our bags and just leave Miami. Even some of my co-workers on set are getting antsy and want to go."

Theodore snapped his fingers in elation. "Ha! I knew it! I said from day one!"

"About what?"

"About the technicians and the original musicians who left just after our time in Philadelphia, before we went to Virginia. I wondered if they were scared and it turns out…they were!" Although it was a bad time to feel even a tiny bit happy, Theodore felt it just by being right. Being 'right' was such a good, self-confident feeling.

"This is getting eerie," Eleanor said for all, feeling thoroughly disheveled.

The silence began then, and went on for quite a while before Simon turned to Alvin. "Brittany was concerned over you, but…what happened?"

"Well…There was this really big guy. Maybe almost seven feet tall and lots a muscle. He was like the really big bouncer Dave hired for us that one time. He was huge!"

"Hmph. Are you exaggerating, Alvin?"

"He's not lying, Simon." Brittany chastised crossly, as she folded her arms. "He even has this shirt on that said 'GO HOME'. It's the same damn message that was –"

"-On the bottom of my coffee cup," Theodore finished in a mumble. Jeanette mumbled something about a 'license plate'.

"Yeah, that's right. He pushed down Brittany, and we bantered. I thought he was just a dumb muscle type, and he was just being aggressive about how and where he went. He then called me a rat."

Valerie was silent, as she thought about the video she had seen of Ravin' Raven threatening them with a message embedded in a music video. She resolved not to let the day pass without allowing everyone to see it.

"What happened next?" Eleanor asked, not liking where this was going.

"He held me over the side of the bridge we were on. It was a people bridge over traffic-"

"Pedestrian overpass?" Simon corrected, although he knew it wasn't the time to be making these trivial corrections.

"Whatever. He then dropped me."

The room fell silent, before it then erupted into chaos. It was mostly about how Alvin could have survived, how he appeared to be fine. Then, Brittany lost her patience.

"Everyone, SHUT UP!" She yelled at the top of her lungs. "Let him finish!"

They all obliged, and Alvin nodded her his thanks gratefully. "Yeah. I managed to grab the bottom beam before I fell and got killed, and I climbed up on the small finger-holds on the bridge. My hands were getting tired, and all I can say that if Brittany wasn't around to finish pulling me up, I would've died out there."

…

"And don't you forget it!" She exclaimed. "Now, what're we gonna do?"

"Rip Dave a new one." Eleanor growled. Upon seeing everyone gawk at her for her intended violence, she amended her statement. "Err, I mean…confront Dave. We should have been told about this if he knew that something was wrong."

"I think so too." Theodore agreed, which was out of character for him. Usually, he would have been the person to give everyone the benefit of the doubt. "I got poisoned. What happened to Jeanette, anyway?"

"I got warned, nearly got run over by a car, and then threatened to keep my mouth shut by the person who warned me to leave Miami. They don't want me talking about who they are. I still have no idea who they are though…" She said coolly.

"That's creepy. Really." Eleanor said. "Brittany? What say you?"

"Find the guy out to get us, call the cops on him."

"Easier said than done."

"Be quiet, Simon!" Alvin urged. "This is serious!"

"I **am** serious. There are clues all over to tell us who this guy is, and yet we don't know. We should take a look at Valerie's video on YouTube. We can watch it on her laptop. I don't want to run a search for it on Dave's."

"Sure," the woman conceded. "I bookmarked it."

"Whoa, whoa…" Simon began thinking seriously. "Hmm…a video on YouTube…by chance, is it a music video?"

"Yeah."

"So it's a music artiste, then? You think it's a music artiste who's out to get us?"

"I _know_ so." Valerie said boldly.

"…"

"Trust me, this person make it obvious. If only I knew that something like this was going on for a longer time, I…we might have been able to do something about it."

Simon was intense thought as his sharp mind began analyzing all the facts before him. "Alright. We'll go practice for the concert tonight. That's what we're doing."

"What?" "Are you crazy?!" "He's lost it." "Are you serious, Simon?" Voices all spoke at once.

"No, I'm not. We have a concert tonight, and it's too late to cancel it. We'll have to do it anyway, and we'll talk to Dave when we come back."

"If the person out to get us is a music artiste, then who's to say that performing won't make them even more upset with us?" Jeanette asked pointedly.

"We'll have the security of numerous witnesses. We'll have to move with an entourage of people. The person who's harassing us won't dare try to do anything when we're practically being guarded by our fans. They're not going to take a bullet for us, they're just our eyes."

"Oh, did Alvin forgot to mention that the guy who dropped him over the side was going to shoot him if I didn't knock the gun out of his hands?" Brittany deadpanned the question with a poker-face. "These people have **guns**. We already have problems, but we shouldn't drag anyone into them, especially our fans."

"But they're numerous presence should guarantee that our antagonists will be deterred from action tonight." Jeanette reassured. "I don't like it anymore than you do, but the plan seems safe."

"Yeah, and then on tomorrow Sunday, we'll get gunned down when we're off by ourselves," Eleanor said simply. "Am I the only realist here?"

"No. You're the pessimist, apparently." The green Seville answered her rhetorical question. "Don't worry, Ellie, it'll be all right."

"I don't think the people who got 'warnings' will get warned again. Maybe it's the last three of you who should be watching out," Valerie fretted. "Simon…Eleanor…Brittany," she regarded the pink Miller with a worried frown. "It's horrible trying to prepare for an attack you won't know when and how could happen. Like earthquakes."

"It's the best way until we can confront Dave. Not a word about this until then."

"The frack I will!" Brittany exclaimed. "Alvin nearly died! Now you just want us to forget about it?!" It was clear that she was upset, and Alvin tried to console her that he was willing to forget about it, even if was just temporarily. Meanwhile in the privacy of his own head, he recalled how Valerie had said that it could be her turn to be 'warned', and he said a quick prayer…detailing that if something had to happen, let it be to him, and not her, although he hoped that nothing would happen in the first place. He fretted for her sometimes. Really.

"Well…let's go then. Dave's gone to pick up the van to drive us to the auditorium. We should get ready before he gets back," Theodore offered to all. It wasn't taken with skepticism or complaint, as all went about what was told, an uneasy silence dominant in the air.

 **=X=X=**

The brunette Seville sighed as he drove the minivan ahead of the equipment truck. He kept his eyes focused on the busy road ahead of him with an air of indifference; it was the same kind of vibe his mind had at present as it slowly went through all the thoughts that usually plagued him.

He considered himself a patient man, although most who knew him was always telling him that he had a short fuse. That was usually because he had to yell his head off at his eldest son nearly every five minutes over something new, but now, times were different. As he failed to make it through the intersection on the green light, he sighed heavily before running a hand through his hair, frazzled.

Alvin took it easier now. Sure, he was fourteen now, and Dave shivered to think what he'd be like when he reached the typical rebellious teen phase, A.K.A age range 15-17. But for now, Alvin wasn't as troublesome as he used to be, and Dave liked to think that Brittany, somehow or another, kept a leash on him. He was always prone to think about how life would be like if Ms. Miller was still around, and he felt obligated to care for the chipettes, and as much as he cared for his own sons. And now…what had he done?

He dragged them here to Miami, of all places. To Ravin' Raven's home. His haunt. His territory.

And his family were trespassers.

As if he were walking a path, he met up in a fork-…

…To either become infuriated at the man for actually trying to keep all of Florida and few branches of other states as his zone to perform.  
Or…  
…To become all sorts of saddened, angry and generally angsty to himself for even taking his own family here in the first place.

He chose the latter by default action, and Dave groaned as he became pissed. Was he an idiot? After this, any prank that Alvin could do wouldn't be able to hold a candle to _this_ mistake. He'd seen the signs; 'GO HOME', they said, 'GO HOME'. 'It's safe there', 'not safe here', the signs yelled. But he took his chances, and pushed through Virginia to come here to Florida for the last three concerts, one of which was today. Just four hours for a function; that's what they called a Back-To-School party. That is, 'Freak-the-hell-out-and-go-crazy-before-school-starts' party. Sounded like something Alvin would do; to do some hyperactive and hare-brained activity before school re-opened.

He couldn't care less, and that was strange. What bothered him was that he stayed after Theodore's poisoning. Sure had he thought that the poison-er, or perpetrator had gotten murdered by Karma with a gun, but now he felt sure that it was foul play. Things seemed a little too calm. Perhaps the Metal-Rapper was on tour from his home state.

And then Valerie had shown him that music video on YouTube.

He had grown close to her, and he had grown to like her more than just friends, simply put. He was falling pretty hard for her, and it was hard not to. She was a lithe, vibrant and exquisite creation, with traces and hints of a jack-of-all-trades personality and cared for the C & C singers as if they were her own children. He had noticed how they flocked to her for a listening ear and ask for advice, or when they wanted unbiased advice on something. There was something for everyone in her; cuisine for Theodore and Eleanor, science and all-rounded knowledge for Jeanette and Simon, not to mention brash behavior and fashion for Alvin and Brittany.

It was hard to believe she was single…

He can't believe that she was touring with them the whole time and he never noticed her. Well, she did say that she had to get the dye out of her hair, but was it really that easy to only mark people buy just one outward appearance?

Of course it did. Just look at Alvin, Brittany, Simon, Jeanette, Theodore and Eleanor. It was too easy.

He caught that his mind was wandering again, and he refocused it. The video on YouTube was of Ravin' Raven singing a rather dire song, and Valerie told him that she suspected that it was sending a message that he was targeting the kids. She then threatened to tell the kids what she knew about Miami if he didn't, and then got the hell out of the state.

'I have my reasons', he had said. 'I just don't feel like you need to know them. Besides, nothing is going to happen. Even that poisoning event poor Theodore went through was just a dud and the criminal was killed remember?'

'I remember,' she had answered him. 'Probably to cover his tracks. You know as well as I do that this guy threatens or borderline maim or kill people who try to make their mark in the entertainment industry in this state. We should go, 'cause whatever reason you have to stay isn't good enough to risk their safety.'

He remembered it clearly. He never wanted to come here, but he felt like he had to. Those charities needed their support, and he had already pledged it. How could he be the one just to back out of this waiver and even look at unwell or diseased and hungry child ever again?

When morals conflicted, which side did one choose? The good of the many or the good of the few?  
The answer should have been obvious, but the few in number was that of his own family. This happy few.

Was it fair of him to risk their life and limb and they didn't even know it?

*BEEEEEP*

"DAMN IT ALL!"

*HONK*

"C'mon, man, wake the hell up! The light's green for Christ's sake!"

He was shaken abruptly from his thoughts and chanced a look upwards. The traffic light was now green, as the angry motorists had been yelling. He drove through the intersection, closely followed by the moving truck for the band equipment. As he did, he glanced at the rearview mirror and could see that he was looking…old and haggard. Stress was killing him, and reminding him that he should talk to Valerie soon. Hopefully, she felt something for him too, and their evenings together can be more than just casual friendly meetings.

He reached for the radio while keeping an eye on the road and began rolling the dial to find the right tune to take his mind off things. Apparently, nothing good was on, except for Bob Dylan's song 'The Times are a-changin''. For some reason, he let it stay, and it played out. However, one of the verses shook him:

 _~Come mothers and fathers  
Throughout the land.  
And don't criticize  
What you can't understand,  
Your sons and your daughters,  
Are beyond your command.  
Your old road is  
Rapidly agin'  
Please get out of the new one  
If you can't lend your hand  
For the times they are a-changin'.~_

There was an air of doom and gloom in it, and he got the feeling that if things were ever going to get better, a mountain of trouble rested between his family and that goal. And the only way to get to it was through.

Come what may, and it will, he prayed that everything would turn out all right.  
At the very least, he hoped that they'd understand and forgive him when all settled again.

 **Stop right here. Chapter's over. Sorry. Pardon the hefty Author's note.**

 **-'The Times are a-changin'' by Bob Dylan. I don't own the song.**

 **\- If you want to know what Lamar looks like, the best image I can give you to look at is 'Oleg' from Saints Row. He looks just like that guy.**

 **This chapter, despite its obvious lack of fluff and action, could be the most important one since the meeting in the limousine between Ravin' Raven and our favorite singers. This single chapter had the most character development I've ever crammed into one quota, and a frightening amount of foreshadowing and hints that anyone should be able to guess the rest of this plot. But then again, I've always been cryptic, and only when I point them out Revelation chapters in my fics that I have readers face-palming themselves –'Why didn't I see that coming?'**

 **The chipmunks and the chipettes are now all on the same page, Dave is only still aware of Theo's incident and the Hacker seems partial. Why reveal herself to some of them, and doesn't want the others like Simon to know about her? And why give warnings when she herself could take down the antagonists? But anyone can make a mistake and never stop paying for it. (Hey, this particular sentence was yet another clue, no doubt it'll fly over your head, or you'll ignore it. Sorry.)**

 **All in good time.**

 **All in all, over the course of this fic (despite your daily requirements of AATC romance I might've failed in, LOL), I've had everyone develop in all points of emotion, given them inner thoughts about what to do and while I admit I've focused more on Alvin and Brittany than the others (Brittany in the first half, Alvin in the second half 'till now), they have been growing into maturity, in the manner of fourteen year olds who have their lives ahead of them and can't wait to live it. They still have some mild delusions, have childlike faith that's been dulled by growing up from single-digit ages to double-digits and are NOT happy all the time as they know that the world is not all sunshine and buttercups. Feh, teens are emotional. I'm not going to write a fic where everyone is one-track-minded, and wear their emotions and feelings like loud-colour shirts.**

 **-No instant love.  
-Character defining choices.  
-Keeping secrets, even from family.  
-Keep their thoughts locked in their head, not saying it out loud like crazy people. (Unlike me)  
-Large emotion width.  
-Make mistakes, but not angsty or excessively.  
-Problems that don't get resolved quickly.  
-Complications that can happen at any time.  
-Make bad decisions influenced by character mentality.**

 **This is me breaking far too many rules in AATC fanfiction, but hey, I'm a rebel. :)**

 **Valete omnes,**

 **MRAY 4TW.**


	25. Chapter 25

**AATC: Territory**

 **I'm back. Before you start throwing rocks, I just want y'all to know that I'm sorry for leaving you hanging for so long. I know this ain't one of my popular fics (far from it, in fact) but you know I'm dedicated to it and to all of you! I've never left a fic hanging, and that's a promise! The only thing that'll stop me short of death is being a mute, quad-amputee. It's not just a hobby for me; it's a duty. I don't like letting people down. It's only been a bit more than a month, but I'd hate to wait too.**

 **With that heartfelt apology out of the way, let's move on.**

 **25.**

Simon fidgeted uneasily as he saw how close how Eleanor and his younger brother had become. They were sitting beside each other, sure, but showing it up how that they were a couple _in public_ , not even he and Jeanette had done that. They were a couple, no doubt about that, but was he ready to bring that out into the open?

Yes, he was. Jeanette was too.

She was getting a bit tired of hiding it from her sisters, and he was getting tired of dodging his brothers about it. Well, it wasn't hard for them, 'cause Theodore didn't catch on to things so easily, and Alvin was nearly always either off on his own or with Brittany. Yeah, not difficult.

But Dave didn't know. Their adoptive father was clueless about it; that was a fact. As he thought about it, he could feel anger welling up inside him, and he clenched his fist while he stared in front of him and to the left where Dave sat.

In fact, in this, there was yet another similarity that dominated the little world he lived in. In fact, there were times that he wondered if he was the only one on the planet who had common sense enough to see the obvious…besides Jeanette, of course.

Then again…she didn't speak to him about things like this, so he was giving her the benefit of the doubt.

Everyone was sitting together, as per their relations with one another. He suspected (it was obvious) that everyone was pairing off. He and Jeanette, Theodore and Eleanor, Alvin and Brittany and Dave and Valerie, of course. The last pair didn't come as a surprise, as Dave had been more than eager to him to want to be in the company of the technician. He could see the signs; they liked each other. But still, this was the adult way of feeling out each other to see if the person was the kind you wanted to get chained to for life.

He wanted to be more open like everyone else, to tell and shout it to everyone that he was in love with his counterpart, Jeanette Miller. But not like what his elder brother did. He was sure that he and Brittany loved each other, but Alvin was probably in denial, and Brittany was too scared to make that big step.

Just like he (Simon) did.

Simon was closer to Theodore in personality, quiet-wise. He wasn't boisterous, but when the time came for him to say something, he would. It's just the blasted stammering he sometimes did and the nervousness and adverseness whenever he was doing something new.

But he really wanted to make that big step. Make that leap for his beloved. That thought made him smile broadly.

For his beloved.

He started picturing what he could do, and soon, the answer was plain, simple and easy, but still reckless.

He was going to have to go solo. But he'd need just a wee bit of help.

…

…

…

"Alright!" Dave called. "We're here, guys! Bundle out, come on!" He announced as a cheer, hoping it'd rouse them up. It failed miserably, as only Simon eagerly got out of the vehicle so that he could go inside the auditorium; his mood wasn't very infectious, either. Everyone else was lackadaisical or just insistent on ignoring what was probably a faked-hype. He _knew_ what kind of mess they were in, and he had the _audacity_ to pretend to be in a good mood?

Jeanette shook her head to rid herself of such thoughts. She needed to take her mind of that, but found that she couldn't. After so long, she and Simon were together, and it just had to be at the most dangerous turning point in their lives. Only goes to show that life was stubbornly showing everyone that it didn't particularly care for anyone, and show that it wasn't fair. A glance behind her told her that Brittany was still mad enough to chew rocks when it came to Dave not telling them anything about some psycho who was after them.

Jeanette wondered about that. It seemed that Alvin was rubbing off on Brittany; she wouldn't have done anything remotely similar to Alvin's overprotectiveness, and yet, she did. She had told off Dave the other night about how he griped at Alvin for doing his rash stunt on stage. Now, she had saved Alvin's life from a gunman who pushed him over the side of an overhead bridge into traffic.

Why did the most interesting things happen to those two? Not that she was jealous, of course. Who'd want to be jealous of near-death experiences? She had enough of her own, thank you very much.

Which reminded her…

Simon…

This antagonist who insisted on making their lives hell was after them. He was pursuing them each in turn, and it was Brittany, Simon or Eleanor on his list. She felt guilty for not worrying over her sisters more; she had Simon in a higher regard in her life right now and made her a traitor in her own eyes. At least now Simon didn't look particularly worried. That was good, right?

And then there was the hacker.

The hacker didn't seem central to the action, but more like an active spectator on the sidelines. The problem was, Jeanette had no idea why the hacker was so adverse to the idea of Simon finding out about them. Perhaps…they were afraid of being found out, like identity and the like. To the point of creating an intersectional vehicle accident, Jeanette needed no further caution.

Whose _side_ was the hacker on?  
They warned her of the vehicle, and where to evade its pursuit via a fire escape.  
They neglect to tell the police of the crime.  
They threaten her to keep her mouth shut about their existence.

"Alright everyone!" Valerie hailed. "Get inside, get prepped to go on in an hour! I don't want anyone missing any singing lines or complaining about refreshments or wanting bathroom breaks."

Jeanette rolled her eyes before heading inside. Just before she filed in last, she heard:

"That's my line to tell them, Val." That came from Dave; he said it as a joke.

"Sorry, you were silent, so I just told them. Get the _hint_?" Valerie answered.

A quick glance behind her made her notice that Dave was scratching his head, confused about what the woman meant. Jeanette furrowed her eyebrows, before closing the door behind her, just as Dave was asking her what she meant in a worried tone.

 **=X=X=**

Simon deleted off another completed task on his checklist that he had made on his phone. 'Alright. So I already made the base beat. The only thing left is to get the lighting right, and maybe get Valerie to alter the volume. It feels like a pop song that gets kinda slow after the bridge, so I can't have it too loud when it's supposed to be of a diminished volume.'

His eyes wandered to the technician's booth which overlooked the stage from its vantage point in the auditorium. It had a one-way mirror, so he couldn't see inside. However, he was sure that the red-headed woman was still inside. He headed there and once he made it, turned the knob and entered inside; sure enough, the woman was in there, eyes set on her laptop.

Her laptop screen was black, save for blocks of white text. Realizing his slip in courtesy, he cleared his throat. "Um…Valerie?"

The woman nearly jumped out of her skin. "Holy crap!" Her eyes swiveled wildly to him, before she calmed. "Oh...Simon! Don't you know that you should knock before entering?!" She closed her laptop with a bit more oomph than necessary and stood up. "Well?"

"Sorry. You're correct." He conceded. After all, it was common courtesy. "Anyway, I was planning on doing something special for Jean tonight. Do a solo song dedicated to her." He waited patiently, but he didn't expect the reaction that he hoped. The woman was still fairly nonplussed. "You don't seem surprised."

"Oh…sorry, let me get into character." She fidgeted and raised her hands to cup her face. "Oh my God," she said flatly. "What? You guys are dating? I didn't know."

There was even more sarcasm than even he was capable of, and he told her so. "I thought that no one else knew? Not even Alvin and Brittany know, and they're the ones who try to find out about **everything**."

"I'm a woman, I suppose," she easily. "Experience and other things taught me how to notice things easily."

Simon huffed impatiently. "Oh, all right. Anyway, I wanted some help. Instead of the usual doing that song, to tune the volume at certain points and adjust the lighting. Kinda like how Brittany sung her solo, but I'll be moving about more."

"So you wrote a song. How long did it take you?"

"Three minutes." He deadpanned.

"When?"

"That was ten minutes ago."

Valerie sighed. "I hoped you didn't get technical and junk. It's a love song? You can't do it all mechanical, it's gotta flow, you know? Like that improvised cover you guys did of 'Happy' by Pharrell Williams. Speaking of that…I don't think anyone in the crowds mentioned that they wanted you guys to sing it. Alvin was the one who decided that you all should, and lied that he heard it."

"I knew that already. He was probably trying to cover-up Brittany's mistake," Simon mumbled. "Did you use the cameras in here to see that?"

"Uh, yeah!" The woman nodded vigorously. "So you know if you mess up, it's still going live."

"Hah hah." Simon said plainly.

"Well, yeah. I'll sort you out. I gotta see Dave about that with the schedule." She took up her laptop and walked over to the door. "Don't worry about it; I'm sure that no matter how bad you screw up, she'll still love you!" She exited while laughing, leaving a half-disgruntled Simon behind.

"That's still not amusing," the blue chipmunk said to himself. "But just in case…" He took out his USB cable he normally carried around for his phone and inserted the correct end into his phone, and searched the technician's console for the other port on where to insert the other end. He soon found it, and plugged it in. "I'll load the synthesized track into this, so I don't have any mistakes cropping up, like her laptop not playing the sound correctly. I can't go wrong with the correct platform, can I? I might as well put it on myself, because she forgot to take it before she left. Without a doubt, I'm sure I know how it's done."

He quickly used his FTP (File Transfer Protocol) to send the file to the computer, and he was soon done. He had made the complete tune with a synthesizer application he had made for himself since the advent of smart-phones, and he was proud of it. It came in handy many times, but today, it had contributed the most. This was for Jeanette.

With a smile, he ejected his device, removed the cord and was soon out on his business. He was due on stage with everyone else in a half-hour.

...

…

…

"I just don't know, Alvin, I just don't feel up to this."

"It's alright, Brittany. We'll be okay." He hugged her tightly, hoping that he was instilling reassurance in her. Alvin felt fear rising up in him; she was yet to be targeted by these people, and he was nearly going out of his mind, looking over his and her shoulder and staring into shadows cast by objects in light, as if someone could be hiding in them. He fretted for her. He really did.

"Thanks." She eased her lissome form out of the embrace. "I needed that. I just hope everything turns out alright. It just seems so stupid! Why should we have to be afraid to do what we're passionate about with the people we love?"

It was a rhetorical question, but Alvin could get quite a bit of the real flavor leaking through. ''The people we love'? Is she talking about the rest of us, like our siblings, or is she talking about _me_?' He felt tempted to talk about what had happened at their breakfast (as if this took precedence over his near-death experience on the bridge).

He decided to let it go.

"Because it's because **they're** afraid." Alvin said loudly after a while of thinking about it, and in the earshot of everyone else as they came closer to group together with the pair. "Whoever's out to make our tour here in Miami hell is afraid of **us**. They're afraid of **us**!" He half-yelled resolutely. "They think we can come here. They think we can sing great. They think we can perform better than them! They think we can steal their fans! They think we can steal their spotlight! They know we can!"

"And they're right!" Brittany cheered, feeling much better from the rousing cries.

"Damn straight!" Eleanor hooted.

"Now let's take that stage!" Alvin declared. "Let's take MIAMI!"

" **YEEAAHHH!** " The shout was raised by the sextet as they ran backstage, grabbing their devices along the way. Guitars were slung over shoulders, earpieces fixes, headsets adjusted and drumsticks weighed. By the time the curtains parted, they were ready to make good on their aim.

…

…

…

Simon had no idea that that so many of the songs in the lineup would be love songs. But pop songs were there, so his addition that was coming up would fit right in. But he wouldn't be dancing. He decided it would be safer to sing from his keyboard in an R & B-esque style, like John Lennon and so on. It didn't have many pop elements in it, as it was just the keyboard. It would be selfish to hog all it for himself, but he had it set in his mind that he was doing this for Jeanette. It was a declaration; a public one, and he was sure this was going to go worldwide.

He deftly tuned his headset microphone to the second channel, so that only the others of the sextet and those in the technicians' booth could hear him. "Alright. Valerie? Could you play my tune, now? I need the synthetics."

" _What? I never got it."_

"It's the console. I put it on the desktop so you could see it. Could you play it please?"

" _You put it on the console?!_ " She half-shouted, nearly deafening him. _"You can't do things like that! The console's…damn it. Well, that's that. Hardware's malfunctioning again. I only use this thing to micromanage the lighting, and my laptop for the sound. This old console's buggy. You're on your own. Couldn't you even wait until I got back?. Maybe you should just postpone this song until the last concert next Saturday, 'cause I can't promise this thing will work by the time this concert is ready to be wrapped up-"_

"I'm doing this song tonight," Simon said heatedly, before he cut off the channel. He knew it was rude of him to dismiss her like that, but he figured he could tell her sorry later. The thirty-second interlude was over, and it was time to start. His time window was dwindling, and he needed to act. He turned off his microphone completely, before turning to the others. "Hey guys? I wanna do a song. _Solo_."

"Simon, you know we don't roll like that," Alvin said matter-of-factly. "Now c'mon, let's just wrap up the night with-"

"Then what about Brittany's song, huh?" Simon said in the same tone that he was answered with. "The very same one that she sung in Virginia?"

"That was personal!" Alvin hissed back, defending his significant other.

"As is this one." Simon replied. "So can I have it please? It might turn out into a wreck, but-"

"Just do it, Simon!" Eleanor egged him on while rolling her eyes. "We're outta time, anyway. Either now or never, you know?"

"Why can't we sing along, Simon?" Jeanette asked quietly, confused as she wondered what kind of song this was so as to why he would wish to sing it alone. "Do we even know it?"

"No. I wrote it."

"Time!" Brittany warned. "3…2…1…"

Simon sat down on his stool and tapped two keys to test, before setting his keyboard to sound like a rock piano, just to be safe. This was a contemporary crowd, after all. He wasn't in the habit of announcing song names, so he just started playing. It started off a bit shaky, as he hadn't even practiced this song, as it was still a seed of one. But he sung clear, and kept his eyes on the piano. Everyone was silent to hear him; his voice started as a hush, and crescendo into a more mature version of his usual voice. He purposely sung with a slightly deeper undertone, but it was more costly on exhale, so he'd never be able to manage long notes for their full duration.

He didn't care. He was giving his best; nothing less for the girl he loved.

 _~You must have been dreamt into existence.  
Delicately crafted from all the best figments.  
Of all the best stuff dreams are made of.  
A real fancy, fantastic fantasm.  
A dream, oh yes, but not a dream of mine.  
A dream, oh yes, a dream of the divine.  
Of the best visions one could imagine,  
A real fancy, fantastic fantasm._

He petered off, and then increased his tempo to do the chorus. It did sound a lot like pop in his mind, so he did it the same. In the back of his mind, he thought to himself that the six lights that usually centered on all of them, that two of those (the one that was always on him and the other on Jeanette) seemed a bit brighter, and now shone their colors instead of the usual white. No doubt, everyone now knew that he was singing to Jeanette.

 _Oh sweet wondrous dream I've ever seen,  
Take me to the farthest felicity where you have been,  
Oh blessed, blissful beatitude I wish I could have,  
The sublime, superb splendor I know I love.  
The real fantasm that I hold dear,  
She exists; you're right here._

His face heated into a blush, and a glance at Jeanette told him that she was experiencing the same.

And then she smiled.

He was confused at this, before she seemingly beckoned to the others. He had no idea why though. Simon just kept his focus on trying to remember the lyrics and the key positions at the same time. Thankfully, the song hadn't been wrecked.

Yet.

And then Alvin started playing. Then Brittany started playing. Then Theodore started playing. Then Jeanette and Eleanor started vocalizing key notes, matching those that he played on his piano.

They had all joined in on the song, and the tempo was increasing.

'No, no, no!' Simon fumed internally. 'Don't they have an inkling as to what 'solo' means?!' He was ready to abandon the song right then and there, before his eyes met Jeanette's and they held.

She looked so happy.

It was enough to make him hang his head in shame. This wasn't supposed to be some self-fulfillment-…it was supposed to be a song dedicated to whom he believed was his soul mate! With new found feel-good vibes, he tapped the 'POP' button on his keyboard, and his instrument took on new life. He dropped his put-on voice for his usual one, and harmony and melody blended to convert R & B to Pop music. 'Thanks guys. We're a family. We're all in this together.'

 _~In this I entrust, this dream I believe!  
This is the vision, I'll ideate the dream.  
A beautiful frame, a gorgeous mane,  
Pearls for eyes, made of amethyst.  
Complex composition, excelling exposition!  
Certain creation, accessible abstraction!  
A heart of-_

He stopped here abruptly in deliberate pause. "Words fail me!" He cried, making the audience laugh merrily, as everyone knew that he had a massive vocabulary. He didn't wait around for it to sink in, and he continued.

 _~It's pure and bared for all to see! See for yourself, see what I mean?~_

 _~Oh sweet wondrous dream I've ever seen,  
Take me to the farthest felicity where you have been,  
Oh blessed, blissful beatitude I wish I could have,  
The sublime, superb splendor I know I love.  
The real fantasm that I hold dear,  
She exists; you're right here.~_

They had all joined in on the chorus, but this time, he made it clear who he was singing to. He had gestured to her by waving his hand at her while looking at her. He blew her a kiss, and she blew one back.

The crowd was eating it up.

He played out the bridge while slowing down in his tempo. Somehow, Valerie in the technician's booth decided that it would be a terrific time to dim some of the lighting, and only two of the beam lights remained that that was stayed on the purple Miller and blue Seville. Only his piano played the bridge as everyone else opted out, and Jeanette slowly approached him, and managed to seat herself beside him on his wide-stool. They were snug there, and while Simon sang, it made the crowd feel like they were intruding on what was practically like a private moment, and they kept quiet.

 _~Of all to grace my sight and my heart…  
Take me into the light, a brand new start.  
Remove me from the depths of my self-made chasm…_

Then his tempo exploded back into desired heights once more.

 _~My real fancy, fantastic fantasm!_

The cheering came back, and all the lighting as everyone resumed their previous stance. Even Jeanette was helping him play, and their arms intertwined lovingly as they did.

 _~Oh sweet wondrous dream I've ever seen,  
Take me to the farthest felicity where you have been,  
Oh blessed, blissful beatitude I wish I could have,  
The sublime, superb splendor I know I love.  
The real fantasm that I hold dear,  
She exists; you're right here...~_

He trickled off the ending, and Theodore made sure it was done by drilling his drums in a rat-tat-tat before crashing his cymbals.

It was over. The song was done, but the concert ran anew with a blazing fever.

Jeanette never left his side though. Simon was happy; he meant every word. He knew that he was really corporeal and literal, and wanted to be more surreal and star-eyed like his better half. He thought of the picture of the bird once more that he had taken by her request, and soon came to realize that he was well on his way.

…

…

…

"Can we get your autograph?!" A frenzied fan hailed.

"Yeah, yeah!" Simon affirmed. His hands were tired just like everyone else's, but he didn't care. He signed it quickly and returned it to the fan, who thanked him graciously. His hand quickly re-sought Jeanette's, and they and their siblings along with Dave and Valerie went in through the hotel doors, and the security guards there kept all the remaining fans (a crowd of them, in fact) from following inside.

"See you at next time, everyone!" Brittany yelled to them, before they all cheered in unison.

"Wow, what a night, huh? Solo loves songs and walking home with fans." Alvin spoke up, but not in a complaining tone. "Anyway, Simon? Since when you and Jeanette….you know…"

"Stay out of our business, Alvin."

 **=X=X=**

Ravin' Raven didn't feel much of anything presently. Before, he was so angry that he was fit to be tied up in a straitjacket, but now…this ten-year-old Scotch that Lamar had poured into his cup was numbing him from the inside out. "So, they walked home with fans, huh? Using their supporters as shields."

"Gotta give the idea credit," Lamar pointed out. "They must've been shaken up after how I nearly killed the red one. Didn't figure him to be such a tough bastard."

"Yeah, but not shaken up enough to not hold that concert tonight." The rapper said adroitly. "I'm slipping up. If they don't take a dive soon, then by the time they do, everyone will start thinking it's me who's been trying to keep Miami all to myself." He took out a DVD from a case that lay next to him, before opening his disk tray in his laptop. After placing it on the tray and pushing back into the laptop, he watched a clip play out of him and his group performing in a park, before there was the sound and visuals of a massive car crash.

"Hey, careful with that," Lamar warned. "You wouldn't want her to hack your laptop and corrupt the video. We need that video for leverage."

"A hacker can only get you through the internet, or by physically touching your shit," Vincent argued. "I ain't connected. But maybe I should get her to sort one of them out."

"I'm not throwing in the towel yet," Lamar complained frostily. "I need another angle. Maybe that green rat girl?"

Vincent held up his arms to placate his guard. "Do what you wanna do. I just intend on using more resources, 'cause apparently, these…these **trespassers** ducking and dodging death. I hope that the blasted hacker isn't helpin' em, 'cause if she is, going to jail would be the least of her worries." He replayed the short clip of the car accident on the video again, before smiling grimly. "Besides, she doesn't have any reason to help them. Especially given her previous history."

"Me thinks that she's killed more people than me," Lamar mumbled. "But you better keep that damn DVD safe, or we might find ourselves getting caught up in more than just a fender-bender the next time we're out in traffic."

"Don't worry, Lamar!" Vincent consoled his oldest friend. "We've tackled worse than this. But we've got to do more than just hound these people. We've gotta show 'em that there isn't a third option. Either go…or die."

The mountain of a man nodded. He had no qualms about this. There was nothing wrong with protecting what was yours.

Every action was justified by the means, and he was prepared to evict these rats by any means necessary.

 **See? This was a filler chapter, but I showed plot advancement in the end. We'll be moving on, and right now, it's Saturday night in the fic, and the only remaining concert is in an exact week. (In the story, obviously. I wish I could say it was for the chapter, though.)**

 **I treated the end with a different perspective, see? I don't let these baddies think they're bad guys. They think that they're in the right, and that our favorite singers are wrong. It's basically two sides of the same coin. In practical today's life, who do you think would be right? The right to freely roam where you want to go, or the right to protect what you think and know to be your space?**

 **...**

 **What? I'm supposed to disclaim a song? Why would I? That was** _ **my**_ **song. I wrote this one today, folks, just for Simon which was meant for Jeanette. It started off as a poem and was more wordy, but not very lyrical, so I did some shaving. I hope you enjoyed it.**

' **Real Fantasm'** **belongs to MRAY 4TW. All rights reserved. 2016**

 **Heh heh. Well, I suppose that's that.**

 **Valete omnes,**

 **MRAY 4TW.**


	26. Chapter 26

**AATC: Territory.**

 **-Well, I'm back. And...yeah? You guys think I abandoned this story, didn't you? The truth is, I've got some serious website designing to do for my skills class. Right about now, I'm learning Javascript. 'Nuff said about that.**

 **-As for abandonment, who said that?! I didn't. Besides, there's another fic of mine that has gone even longer than this one when it comes to updates. You may think I have bitten off more than I can chew, but I haven't. All things come in seasons. The good seasons are coming back, believe me.**

 **-Happy belated one year anniversary to this story...and happy Valentine's Day. :D**

 **Let's get on with it!**

 **26.**

Valerie stood behind all the others, looking on as the C & C singers watched the video on her laptop. Judging from their reactions, she could tell that they were finally coming to grips about how dire their situation really was.

They all watched the video of Ravin' Raven singing in his studio, a song called 'Hunt You Down'. The smart ones and even the...not so smart ones like Theodore could grasp that the man was singing about them. While the video played, Alvin was fervently trying to defend one of his favorite singers. "Nah, it can't be him. I mean, the guy's cool. Remember how he even offered to sing with us in New Jersey? Then Dave turned us away from it."

"Think, Alvin!" Simon chastised. "He's the only major singer in all of Miami Florida right now who would want to be after us, and in all those 'Red' states marked in Dave's planner!" He pulled up the picture he had taken of said page of the planner and practically shoved the device in his face. "Look! All these southeastern states, and Philly, New Jersey... It has to be him! I mean, who else could it be, huh? Rick Ross? Flo Rida? Victoria Justice? Get real, Alvin!" Simon said in a cutting accusation.

"Oh, so the guy who wanted to sing with us wants to kill us," Alvin mumbled sarcastically. "Suuurree."

Jeanette shook her head. "Alvin? Do you know sign language?"

"What?" Eleanor asked. "What does that have to do with anything?" In the privacy of her own mind, she was secretly plotting ways of doing harm to the rap-metal singer without evidence leading back to herself.

"I once learned the basics of it," Jeanette stated coolly before she removed her glasses, cleaned them with the corner of her blouse before putting them back on, much like how Simon normally cleaned his. "One of the first words, the harder ones I tried to learn that is, was the word 'Chipmunk'."

"And your point is?" Brittany pressed.

"Twice during the chorus, those funny gestures he seems to be doing? He's saying the words 'Rat', followed by the word-"

"Chipmunk." Theodore finished with awful realization.

Valerie's cell phone started to alert; since it was on silent, it only vibrated which only allowed her to notice the notification. She excused herself from the others and faced away from them to give herself some confidentiality, whereupon she removed her phone from her hip-pocket and read the text message on the screen. After doing so, she read through it twice, before angrily shoving the phone back into her pocket. 'Damn! Goddamn, this concert! Why can't things be simple? Last year should have been a wake-up call, so why the hell am I still here? Miami, Ravin' Raven, and his whole anti-competition crap is going to kill him eventually, and drag us all down with him! But before that happens…' She glanced to the six singers who were angrily and fervently discussing the matter at hand. 'He wants to kill these kids. The sweet, brave boys and the beautiful, determined girls. But what can I do?"

What could she do, indeed? For all of her knowledge, intuition, initiative, she was powerless. With Ravin' Raven's resources, they _and_ she would have to comply. Leave and live, or stay and die.

Perhaps she could make a third option.

But there wasn't. It was already made for her, and for Valerie, it was the only option.

While the kids were still arguing in the background, Valerie turned back to them, especially the girls, idly wondering how they would have turned out had their adoptive still been around to take care of them. While they had turned out okay…okay-ish for the most part, thanks to their counterparts, Valerie still had to think.

Maybe they wouldn't have even come to Miami in the first place. Maybe. But who knew?

That was food for thought for another time. She decided that it was time to at least warn Dave.

 **=X=X=**

David hemmed and hawed as he tried to solve the crossword puzzle. He could hardly get his mind to focus on it, as his mind was preoccupied with trying to make up itself. Should he leave Miami? Or go?

The answer was simple. He should leave.

He supposed he had always had a soft spot for the lesser fortunate, like his own adopted sons and even the chippettes. They really weren't daughters he could call his, even though he had taken care of them like a neighbor would, he supposed. He had even fought for his right to care for them like a guardian would in court, and the fact that they were old enough to take care of themselves. Children yes. Ordinary, no.

But he still loved them. He loved all of them. And yet, he had placed them, knowingly, in harm's way. How he was going to live with himself after this, he really had no idea.

But how he was going to back out of making the quota to donate, he had not even an inkling of doing that either.

It wasn't just about his career anymore. What he was doing could be called noble by some people, and downright idiotic by others. Didn't he value his life? Even more so, didn't he value the lives of his children? Blood meant little to the Sevilles and Millers. They were still his to call his own.

 _"While I admit there's a substantial benefit in that area, not to mention my integrity and reliability will be at stake. The main reason is because of the final charity. I promised them a healthy sum, and it's an AIDS beneficial charity case. I lost a relative because of AIDS and I'm not ashamed to say that it's probably clouding my better judgment."_

These were the words he had told the doctor, and he was being honest. But so was the doctor. The medical practitioner was like his scalpel…sharp and to the point.

" _You've done a fine job with the smallest. How much more before you realize that you're losing your family members to something that you could have avoided? It's almost as if you're using them-"_

 _"Shut…up. We're done talking. Give me the damn form so I can get my family out of this hospital."_

 _"That would be for the best. But I pray that I won't see you here before all is said and done. But in the case of the lesser of two evils, better to see me here in the hospital than the mortician in the morgue."_

"I'm…using them?" Dave muttured to himself worriedly. "No…No, I'm not. I'm doing this to help the charities."

"Oh really?" A pleasant voice asked suddenly.

"Holy-" Dave was badly startled by the sudden speech and his head reeled as he looked for the voice's owner. "Valerie?! You're so quiet!"

Valerie looked down at the ground and looked up. "Meh. It must be the carpeting. So…I just overheard your little outside thinking."

"You did?" Dave began to sweat a little, wondering what the lithe woman was up to now. "Um…you don't say? How much did you hear?"

"What was there that you don't want me to hear?" She strode up to his side and sat on the sofa next to him. "Keeping secrets, huh?"

"Who doesn't?" Dave said in contempt, making the woman nod in agreement. "I tell you, I have no idea what to do next."

"About what?" Valerie started scrolling through video thumbnails on her phone as if she was merely half-interested. Dave had long learned from the woman that it was a nervous habit, although he had never gotten around to ask her why and what could cause it in the first place. Then again, he had his life to live and she had hers.

"The kids. The last concert is on Saturday, and right now it's Sunday. And with how I'm worrying, I'm going to end up with a full head of gray hairs." The man chuckled at this. "And to think, it wouldn't be Alvin's fault."

"Don't worry, so that's what you're worried about? The hairs? You'd better stop worry about good looks so much and more about getting out of Florida."

"You know that's what I meant-…wait…good looks?" The man asked carefully, testing the waters.

"Well…" She made a 'you-know-what-I-mean' gesture. "You're not _un_ attractive."

"Um, you don't give out compliments easily, do you?" Dave huffed with a small smile on his lips.

"Nope." She finally smelt something familiar in the room, and her nose twitched in recognition. Recognition for all the wrong reasons. "Is that alcohol I smell?"

Dave sighed. "Good nose. I only opened it, but I haven't drunk any." He picked up the hidden bottle from his side of the sofa and handed to her a rather goodish sized bottle with a brownish-yellow liquid inside. Her eyes widened when she saw what kind and brand of alcohol it was.

"'Cognac Park Carte Blanche VS'? Well, you have excellent taste, I'll give you that. Um…mind if I borrow this for a sec?"

He didn't mind, but he watched her go off to the bathroom with the Cognac in hand, wondering all the while what she was up to. Two minutes later, he heard the toilet flush and she returned as if she'd done nothing wrong. He didn't really want to believe she had done what she probably did, that is, until she handed him back the empty glass bottle and there wasn't even a trace of the stuff on her breath. "Did you just flush my Cognac down the toilet?" He asked heatedly.

"Yes," the answer came back nonchalantly. "Here's the bottle back. Just in case you want to recycle the glass, methinks."

He was well and truly about to blow his stack, and Valerie fully expected to see it. However, she was surprised to see the man heavily exhale, trying to bring his rage under control. "Sigh. Well, I guess you know that you now owe fifty dollars for that. But why would you flush away the stuff?"

"You're taking this a bit too well. Why?" The man was silent for a while before he gave his answer.

"Well," he scratched his head idly. "You always seem to make well-informed decisions, although I really wanted that Cognac. Now answer my question." He watched her hesitate so he pressed on. "Please."

She sat back on the sofa beside him. "Well, for one thing, you don't deserve the luxury to drink away any troubles, to ease any stress when it's the kids who're going through tribulations." She saw him hang his head in shame and guilt but she continued regardless. "Secondly, I don't want to see anyone indulge in alcohol. You try to drink away mistakes and that only causes you to make even more of them."

"You sound like you're talking from past experience."

"I am. How much do you know about me?"

"Don't I know enough?"

"Smooth save, suave speaker," she replied in a somber sing-song. "Dave, you have six kids who love you and adore you. Do you really want to stick out their necks **and** yours in a situation like this? Just go back home. I don't want to see any of you getting hurt, or worse."

"Come to think about it, where's your home anyway?"

Valerie looked away from his gaze. "Me? I practically live all over, but for the moment, I guess it's here." She mumbled sadly. "Don't have a house, but I feel right at home with those kids."

"You know, they look up to you like a mother."

Her eyes snapped back to him. "Is that a marriage proposal I hear?"

"Is it too early, or too late?" He joked. "Relationship-wise or age wise? I know well enough not to ask a lady her age."

"Relationship-wise? We have one? Too early. Age wise? Christ, I'm forty."

"Really? How did you manage that? You look so young, and you're only a year older than me."

"Simple. I don't have a son who dresses in red to yell at half the time." The woman said simply.

"That's cold."

"Plain and ugly truth. And speaking of truths…Dave, the kids. They found out about Ravin' Raven."

The man's eyes widened. "What? How did they-?!"

"I told them."

"Why would you tell them that its-…now they're going to try to take matters into their own hands or something. Simon might try to dig for dirt, evidence with Jeanette in tow. Theodore will only get drawn in with Ellie and Alvin…Alvin and Brittany might do something headstrong-…"

"They're going to do something, probably. It's better than just sitting around in a hotel room waiting for you to make up their minds whether or not you're going to allow us to get our throats slashed."

"I know…but the charities. The charities!"

"What charities? Don't you think they've had enough? The fundraisers have gotten enough money-"

"We haven't met quota, and I can't just back out of our biggest concert. If we don't do this, the charities won't get their money, we won't get paid enough and worst comes to worst, we won't have enough to feed ourselves **and** amass enough money to tour again anytime soon. We'll go broke and starve."

"So those are your stakes, huh? Has the thought 'quit while you're ahead' ring any bells?" The woman chastised.

"Either way," he ignored the barb. "I don't want to endanger them, but if I don't do this, I'll basically be cutting them off from music indefinitely, won't have enough to send them to school, feed them, clothe them, bills to pay, much less the other people like you who worked on this tour need to be paid…we're not rich. We're probably the humblest artistes to walk the face of the earth."

Valerie was now starting to grasp the stakes. It only went to show how much stress the man was under. She could see it; the man wasn't aging by the year. It was more by the day and the stress was nearly tangible enough to weigh by the ton.

The man looked down and closed his eyes, trying to hold back from shedding tears but he couldn't keep back the sobs. "I was trying to stay out of the East coast for years; my own rule of keeping out of the 'red' states. Small concerts just didn't cut it back in the West, and Ms. Miller's death made it harder. Funerals and send-offs aren't exactly cheap, and nearly all our previous concerts generated just enough money to keep us from mortgaging our house and Ms. Miller's. I couldn't afford any public embarrassment of going broke, especially with six mouths to feed. So…I broke my own rule and came out East. I was hoping that things had died down, and look! Now I'm here to find out that **we're** going to."

All was quiet for a minute; Valerie trembled in mix emotions. "Dave?" She said shakingly.

"Hm?" He looked up, only to get a solid punch with knuckles that rang against his cheekbone. "Agh!"

The force alone was enough to knock him onto his backside and as he got back up on a knee, he ranted. "Hey! What was that for-"

She knelt down quickly and drew him into a hug. She whispered. "I thought I had you all figured out, and that you were shallow. I'm sorry, Dave."

He didn't say anything for a while, neglecting it just for the sake of enjoying the hug for a bit longer. "So what was the punch for?"

"For being a knucklehead."

"Well, look at me," he joked as he rubbed his sore cheek. "Not even married yet, and I'm already whipped. In more ways than one."

"And don't you forget it," she answered with a grin. "Now c'mon. You'd better explain what you told me to the kids, or they'll be after you with torches and pitchforks, thinking that everything is black and white like how I used to believe. So are you going to need for emotional support, or are you going to talk to them alone?"

"It's my mess."

"…I understand."

 **=X=X=**

Valerie made her way out briskly and had to weave around slow walkers in her way. All of a sudden, Miami didn't feel so safe, since she could be targeted by Ravin' Raven or Lamar. They were practically invincible and at the moment, she felt very vulnerable.

She glanced over her shoulder at the hotel she was coming from in the distance and mused silently. Right about now, Dave was explaining to the C & C singers about their situation and she had a worry shiver run down her spine. She fretted for him presently, because at least two of them were likely to go bedlam on him. Alvin and Brittany's anger was already something to be feared when separate. Together, it would be nuclear.

Shaking her head to free her mind of such thoughts, she began to think of what and how she may feel for the brunette man. She knew he wasn't so shallow as to only like her for her outer qualities; she knew that she was pretty and had an effect on people. But they both weren't spring chickens anymore. Perhaps they were meant for each other?

Maybe.

Was she a professional on love?

She wasn't. But she a lot of experience from seeing it in other people. But knowing that time was fleeting and age was increasing, she supposed it was worth a shot to advance a relationship with him. But she was still sure that she knew more about him than he knowing about her.

There was a reason why they both went to bed late and woke late. Privacy to talk was better assured when the younger ears were asleep.

'Now…where to get some takeout? Thai? Mexican? Chinese? I better make up my mind, before Ravin' Raven ties me in with the others and try something like poison again, just like poor Theo. Probably a good thing to go out on my own and ordering, rather than calling out of the hotel when our stuff is probably wiretapped to listen and watch us.'

With that in mind, she tugged on the cap she had on tighter and lower over her head to shade her eyes. 'I wonder if Ravin' Raven knows every red-head in Miami? 'Cause if he does, I'm at a disadvantage. I thought that by standing out, I'd be hidden. It could be the reverse, 'cause it's the nail that stands out that is the one to get hammered down. But…I'll gladly take one for the kids.' She smiled when she thought this before it fell into a deep frown. 'Geez, I really do sound like a mother. A pity about Ms. Miller, though.'

She walked past the DIY Gardening store and into the Chinese restaurant. 'I've got a bad feeling. We've got to be proactive instead of reactive.'

 **=X=X=**

"I'm back, everybody!" Valerie called out. "Who's hungry?"

"Everyone's pissed," Eleanor said bluntly. "Theo and I had just gotten the louder ones, a.k.a. red and pink to quit cussin' out Dave."

"So, you didn't?" Valerie had expected Eleanor to blow a fuse, knowing that she could get vindictive.

"I didn't. I settled for slugging Dave in the stomach. I wouldn't worry about it, though, I held back." Eleanor rolled her eyes. "Although I didn't want to…"

Valerie couldn't believe here ears. "I think I'm now afraid of you. Keep your hands to yourself. Although I more or less did the same thing to him."

The girl chuckled. "So long as you don't do anything wrong by me, you have nothing to worry about."

"About that…" The redhead passed one of the Chinese takeout boxes to the green girl. "The restaurant used a bit too much teriyaki sauce. Sorry. I know you're kinda particular when it comes to food-"

"I'm too hungry to care!" The girl snatched the box. "Thanks, though!" She took off while Valerie rested the rest of her food luggage on the table while eyeing the others in the room. They were all silent and wore moody expressions. But the thing was, while Simon and Jeanette sat together, Alvin and Brittany were apart. The stage technician picked up the fact that Brittany was cross at Alvin for not believing that Ravin' Raven was the one actually after them, along with being mad at Dave.

The angst was heavy. Really heavy.

She wanted to resolve this but she had no idea on how to start. They already had enough on their plates, dealing with the likes of the territorial and homicidal rapper and his cronies. They shouldn't be fighting, not now, not ever!

Sad to say, there wouldn't be much of a happy ending this time.

In the meanwhile, Theodore took up his takeout box and followed Eleanor to the couch and sat beside her. He quickly graced his meal before he dug in, beginning to eat the noodles with his chopsticks. "Hey Ellie, what do you think we should do? Stay or go?"

"Go home and die slowly from bankruptcy, or stay here and die from biting the bullet. Is there really a better choice out of the two? It's like trying to decide how to commit suicide. They both suck!" She stopped to chew. "And I'm going to get really tired of takeout if this is the best Chinese food available. We're sitting ducks in the hotel, we try to leave, we get killed…the only way out is either in an armored vehicle to the nearest airport or in a box."

"What do you mean, 'in a box'?" Her boyfriend asked.

"I mean a coffin, Theo."

"That's grim. Even right now, you're stress eating. You won't give the food a chance to digest if you eat that quickly." He said worriedly.

"I think I have the right to go completely crazy, Theo. I think you got off easy, compared to what happened to the others. It's like the bottom rung of the ladder, and it increases in danger with each rung you climb to get higher. Chased by cars, thrown off an overhead pedestrian bridge. I don't even know when it's my turn-"

Theodore hushed her by drawing her into a hug. "Shhh…don't call it on yourself. Maybe Dave will just take us home and we won't even have to bother with the weekend concert."

"…"

"…" He stared back, wondering why she had gone silent. But she did eventually answer.

"Luckily for you, your naivety is cute."

Her phone started to play its notification tone to signal that she had a text message and she had to put her now-empty takeout box aside to pull it out of her pocket. She then opened up the message on her phone and read it:

1 want 2 セーブ the 6: _I'm sorry._

"What's the text say?" Theodore asked.

"It just says 'I'm sorry'. It must be someone's idea of a sick joke." Eleanor fumed while she took up her fortune cookie and proceeded to break it apart. "But where have I heard that before? I think Brittany and Jeanette were arguing about some hacker who had some sort of crazy name that-…" She trailed off while she read her fortune.

Even Theodore could see that the cookie had far too much print to be a normal cookie, and he saw Eleanor blanch. "Oh my God. Oh my God." Was all she would say.

"What? What is it? What's the fortune?"

"That…is no **fortune** , Theodore." She hung her head while bracing her elbows on her knees. "Remember how I just said that you were the bottom rung of the ladder?" Tears started coming to her eyes and she tried to form more words, but couldn't. Instead, she settled for just handing the note out of the cookie to Theodore. The more he read, the more and more his heart fell.

 _It's not important to know what your meal is, so much as knowing what was_ _ **in**_ _it. The best way to kill a rat is with_ _ **Rat Poison.**_

 **Well, that's it. Sorry for the wait again. And…yes, it's a cliffhanger. I** **REALLY DON'T** **like cliffhangers, so you can look out for the resolution soon, perhaps by midnight Saturday, or even a 2-3k one tonight, because I think I still have enough material to work with. Maybe, 'cause I wanted a 'lovey' theme to suit valentine's day. Instead, I fleshed out some DavexValerie (yeah, no one really likes OCs, but I'm not going to pair Dave and Ms. Miller for obvious reasons.)**

 **-Pris, hope you liked the chapter. YOU HEAR THAT ALL OF YOU?! TELL HER THANKS FOR THE CHAPTER!**

 **-Jake, if you're reading this, (I KNOW you are,) it'll soon be time to get back to work. You know what I mean.**

 **Well, I guess that's it.**

 **Valete omnes,**

 **MRAY 4TW.**


	27. Chapter 27

**AATC: Territory**

 **Well, I'm back. Not as early as I promised, but it's still before the end of the week. Have it, and you're welcome. Kinda...I kept my promise for Saturday night right? Right? (Looks at clock- 12:45 am, Sunday) Early Sunday? Damn it.**

 **So...poisoning? Didn't this happen to Theodore already? Yes. Hasn't anyone thought of how ironic some of these circumstances can be? Well...except Jeanette, but it was ironic in how she had to 'make like a bird' to get higher to avoid trouble.**

 **Enough of a commentary. I'll catch you at the end.**

 **27.**

"Dave!"

The man was jolted out of his half-asleep state, wondering what new situation had developed now. He was still feeling miffed for having taken two punches in the same afternoon for reasons that were nearly identical.

But whatever. He supposed that he deserved it.

"Dave! Come quick!" Came the shouting voice again.

'Was that Theodore? What's wrong now?' The man asked himself as he made haste to get out of the bedroom. "Theodore? What's going on?!" The man half-yelled back, minding that it was now early night in the hotel they were in.

"It's Eleanor!"

The man had made it to the doorway by now and gazed into the room beyond. His eyes took in a grim scene as everyone was chattering in loud, worried tones, most of it centered on the youngest Miller who was sitting with her head resting in her palms and braced on her knees. "What's wrong? What's wrong with Eleanor?"

Brittany's eyes flared from worry to anger when she saw the man standing in the doorway. "You...! This is **your** fault!"

"What? What did I do?" Dave asked, confused now. Catching snippets from others, he heard words like 'Chinese', 'food', 'restaurant', 'poison' and accusations of who's fault it was. "Poisoning? What poison?"

"Those... _bastards_..." Brittany spat out the word, "poisoned my baby sister! Why the hell did you drag us out here, Dave?!"

Jeanette was about to tell her older sister to watch her manners but decided that she couldn't be bothered. She had bigger things to worry about and besides, Dave had this coming to him. Maybe more, too.

Brittany jabbed a finger in the man's stomach repeatedly while she maintained her verbal assault. "It's your fault. You don't trust us to even tell us we were going broke, not to tell us that we were taking a risk to come out here, not to tell us our lives were in danger, that a psychopathic rapper and his cronies and some ill hacker were out to get us! Theodore gets a nerve poison, Jeanette gets nearly run over by a madman behind a steering wheel and Alvin nearly got himself thrown off of an overhead bridge into traffic and now Eleanor is poisoned."

"Rat pesticide," Simon added. He was feeling angry too, although he was thinking more of getting evidence on Ravin' Raven's guilt, rather than Eleanor's potential life-and-death situation.

"What? How is my fault-" The man started to say, but he was immediately shut down.

"You know what?! Just stuff it! We don't want to hear it! In fact…we'll just go home by ourselves! Right, Alvin?"

"Hmm?" Alvin looked up and to Brittany from where he was close to Eleanor, wondering how to help the poor chipette. "Go home by ourselves? We can fly home by ourselves?" He didn't sound too confident, but he was on her side. After all, Brittany was yet to be targeted, wasn't she?

"Alvin, you of all people should understand…your broken bones. You broke your arms, a leg and some ribs. Do you think that all of that just disappeared? And Brittany…do you think you never got a psychiatrist because you didn't want one?" Dave said seriously. He knew that he shouldn't have been bringing up things like this, but they needed to be said, although he knew that the more pressing urgency was with Eleanor.

"That's a low blow, Dave." Jeanette stamped her foot crossly as she thought of Brittany's revelation about how she had contemplated suicide. "You had no idea what she went through."

"I'll never know it as well as she did. The point is, I only brought the tour out here because I was desperate! I have bills staring us in the eyeballs, I'm only good as a music producer and nothing else. You girls even made it harder by staying on your own, instead of coming to live with us! There are always consequences-!"

"Dave!" Valerie yelled suddenly. Dave was startled out of his rant by the woman's shout and brought back to earth. It was as if he had spaced out while he was ranting, and now looking back at the six, he couldn't believe he had shouted at them. Looking at their expressions, they had difficulty believing it too. He yelled to chastise Alvin when he was up to his usual shenanigans, sure, but he always spoke level headed with them, in both good times and bad. But the topic and the things he yelled…

"…"

He sighed deeply. "I'm sorry. Guys, I really am. I'm sorry for taking that out on you. What I should say is…Eleanor?" He called softly to the youngest chipette.

"Hmm?" The girl looked up with a dejected expression.

"Is there anything I can do to help?"

"I dunno Dave. Maybe get my stomach pumped at the hospital?"

"It'll be too late by the time we get there. Besides, Ravin' Raven might even be watching it, making sure that no one gets there." Valerie argued. "I think I have an alternative that should cause the same thing, though."

"Are you thinking…nausea?" Simon suggested.

"Yeah. Theodore. Go take your girl around the world inside the bathroom. Jeanette, get some lukewarm water in a cup. Use the microwave. Simon, get some vegetable oil. Dave? You know the ammonia that you used to wake up Brittany when she got mugged? Do you have any more?"

"Uh huh."

"Perfect. I'm gonna need a capsule. Oh, and Brittany? Keep Alvin out of trouble."

"Say what?" The red Seville looked up.

"Yes ma'am," Brittany huffed. She let herself fall into the chair next to her significant other. 'I hope Eleanor turns out alright. Damn it, Dave! How dare he-' It was then that her thought processes became soupier as her thoughts became muddled with worry for her sister, anger at Dave and confusion as to what her next move was.

Alvin seemed to sense her thoughts while he watched everyone else busy about. By the bumbling in the chipette's room next door, it sounded like Theodore was already spinning Eleanor in circles, trying to make her figuratively spill her cookies. "Don't worry about it, Valerie. I'm sure that Valerie knows what she's doing."

"Huh?" She broke free from the storm her mind was in. "Yeah. Whatever."

"Brittany? Did you really mean it? You'd just go back home?" He had to ask. It was something that was riding him ever since she said it.

"Of course! No matter what kind of situation we were in, I'm sure that no reason was good enough to bring us all the way out here just to upset some jealous rap-metal singer."

"What if…what if we really were broke?" Alvin said at last. "What kind of life would be waiting for us back home? No more music, school, food, water in the taps, electric power…"

"Is it really worth dying over, Alvin? Or is it easier because you've lived through your little 'warning'?"

"That hurts, Brit," Alvin muttered. He held off for a while, wondering what he could say to alleviate her frayed nerves. "…So you want to leave and go home, then?"

"You wouldn't come with me?" Brittany shot back. She had thought he would have been the first one to agree with her. Not just because she knew she was right, but of late, she had come to believe that she would always have Alvin on her side. "What else do you want me to do, Alvin? Just stick around waiting for someone to stick a knife in me?"

"No, I didn't say that," Alvin answered nervously. "Well, as a matter of fact…yes, I guess I sorta do."

"…" She was about ready to turn on him but just before she did, she tried her best to let it go, rather than explode. "Why?"

"Brittany," he started shakily before he gained some more confidence. "Listen. I want you to know that I will _always_ be in your corner. I'm not against you. I mean, to think that it was because we were broke why you didn't even get a psychiatrist last year-"

She shushed him by tapping her index finger against his lips. "I didn't need a head-peeping doctor. You understood me just fine, better than any shrink could've." It felt like the best thing to say to him.

"Even when you were contemplating suicide?" Alvin whispered, trying to keep his topic from being listened in on by anyone else.

"…What?" Brittany whispered back. "You knew about that?"

"I saw the note, Brittany. From the first night, when I stayed over after I visited you. I was trying to keep myself awake and sooner or later I ended up going through a drawer. When I saw the note and the knife. I'm sorry-"

"No," she cut him off mid-speech. "Don't be. It's fine." She looked away and seemingly stared off into space. "You know, I was always thinking about it. But every time I was psyching myself to go through with it, you'd come to visit me. At times that made sense, like midday, and sometimes you'd be knocking at my window at ten p.m., or even two in the morning like a crazy person."

"Guess we were two of a kind, huh?" He joked with a lopsided smile. She giggled at this and it succeeded at making him laugh as well. It was during this that Brittany thought of how Jeanette had been conversing with both her and Eleanor ('Poor Ellie,' she thought as her mind ran on her,) talking about how it was like each of them were practically tailor-made for the Seville brothers.

'Were we?' Brittany mused before she smiled happily. "I guess we are, Alvin. But you'll never see me trying to do a front-flip off of the roof a building."

His expression fell into that of fake annoyance. "It was a swallow-dive, then the flip! And will anyone EVER let me live that down?!"

"Nope." She said bluntly with a smirk before she adopted a thoughtful look on her face. "Say, Alvin?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you remember how we used to fight when we were younger?"

His emotional high did an 180' degree turn and he became crestfallen. "Yeah. What of it?"

She did not fail to notice this but she looked away regardless, before leaning back fully in the chair with her eyes closed. She let her mind wander a bit before she came to, only to discover he was waiting on her answer. "Alvin? It's not a fear of me dying or anything but…for how I used to treat you, I hope you can forgive me. I'm sorry."

His eyes widened but his eyebrows were furrowed in a frown. He could tell that she was being sincere and that cut him. It cut him deeply.

He clutched his chest as emotional pain nearly became physical. Now, it felt like the guilt of his own conscience had increased exponentially. He doubled over in pain, even so, that Brittany became concerned instantly and had to ask what was wrong. "Alvin? What's wrong? Oh no, are you poisoned too?!"

"No!" He grunted out. "NO! I'm…fine. Just leave me alone!" He got up shakily before he ambled off with nary a look behind him. He couldn't. He didn't want to see and possibly get hurt even more by whatever look she had on her face, whether it be of surprise or jeer or hate. He let himself out through the doorway that led to the bedroom and let himself sag into his bed.

Left alone now, Brittany worried that she said something to upset her crush. 'Did I say something wrong? I only apologised; shouldn't that make things better between us?' As far back as she knew, she believed Alvin had had his reasons for pranking her. It was messy and incoherent in her mind, but she knew who cast the first stone when it came to how they ended up at each other's throats.

It was Brittany Miller.

The Chipettes came to town and it wasn't long before Alvin and his brothers had come to be friends to with them. Everyone was so…alike, for lack of a better word. It was all smooth. If it was smooth before, it was practically cream when each set of siblings discovered that the other sung. The only difference between the two sets was that Alvin and his brother were already on their big break, and the chipettes were yet to have their shot in the limelight. The Chipmunks were already doing big concerts, and suffice to say, all the chipettes were really known for were giving small concerts at fundraisers and being solo singers in their church choir.

There were two terrible character traits that Brittany had always had; she had the potential to become extremely envious and it was that reared up her sharp tongue. Needless to say, when it found out by Alvin that she was badmouthing him to her friends that she knew she was better than him and that he was a nearly talentless-hack, he didn't say anything back to her. In fact, his first response was to put a small piece of plastic tape over the sensor or her computer mouse, fooling her into thinking it wasn't working. Then her autocorrect started correcting simple words into obscene words. Then her contacts in her phone were all renamed to Ms. Miller, and she had no idea who were her friends, her own adopted mother, important people and the rest. Then her orange juice was replaced with a mixing of powdered cheese (from a Kraft© Macaroni and Cheese Dinner) and water, which was obviously insipid to her taste. Then food coloring hidden in the bristles of her toothbrush turned her pearly whites green. Then her speed stick deodorant was replaced with a block of white cheese. Then her shampoo was replaced with red ink. Then…

The point was, he didn't take it well.

It was then that their friendship devolved into a stewing mess. At one point, it got so bad that he went out, bought a pair of feminine underwear, wrote her name on it, then placed it on the teacher's desk. The teacher unknowingly shamed her in front of her class by holding it up and asking her if he knew about her panties being on his desk.

" _Alvin!"_

" _Hmm?" He scarcely had time to react before he was tackled to the ground of the schoolyard. She was on top of him and he had nowhere to dodge when he saw her fist cocked back and she let him have it. Her knuckles rapped against his bottom lip and burst it. Crimson flowed from it, but it wasn't nearly enough to sate the chipette's rage. "OW! What the hell?!"_

"' _What the hell' is right!" She yelled into his face. 'Huh, I'm on top. As I should be!' She thought with a small amount of satisfaction as she saw his panicked look. She reared her fist back to slug him again but was interrupted when his muscles suddenly came alive; he easily tossed her off of himself to the side and got back onto his feet._

 _The red Seville touched a finger to his busted lip and felt it. "Hope you enjoyed your free shot."_

 _"What?! You deserve more than a bloody lip!" She screamed. "Do you have any IDEA how much you embarrassed me in class?!"_

 _"And the award goes to..." He trailed off as if he was announcing a winner, "to Brittany Miller, who finally understands other feelings besides being snobbishness! Tell me, Miss Miller," he went on in the fake posh voice of an announcer, "how does it feel like to only how to hate, especially me?"_

 _"Hate?" She got up slowly as if making up her mind about something. "I hate you, Alvin. But I also know how to love."_

 _"Love?" He asked, befuddled._

 _"Oh yes. I love to HATE you." She turned her back on him as if he were nothing more than a stranger. She used to think that they could be friends, even more than just regular friends but now she wasn't sure anymore. He had crossed the line as far as she was concerned. "Leave me alone. Just...leave me alone."_

 _She had bigger fish to fry. It was her first large concert and furthermore, it was somewhere in Kansas. Right now, she didn't care. Perhaps she'd even get her big break there, too. Maybe then she could live there. She didn't care that she'd have to make new friends; if it was without Alvin, then it was fine by her._

 _She'd get to the top on her own steam._

"But it's not like that anymore!" Brittany fumed to her herself bitterly. Sure, he'd play a lot of pranks on her. That underwear business was his lowest work…and his last. And what she had told him was the last thing she said to him before flying out to her concert with the rest of her family. It was also the very last concert that Ms. Miller had gone to as well and coupled with the realization of this, Brittany began to weep. 'I don't love to hate him. I guess it was too much to ask for forgiveness, that it'd just be swept away. Why did I even bring it up? What does he want me to say?!'

Well, it was hard, wasn't it? Perhaps after all this time, she must have had an extreme superiority complex. But over time, Alvin had lost his ego and hers had remained as large as it ever was.

'And after I came back home with just my sisters, Dave offered to take us in but I used my veto over my sisters and we stayed by ourselves in Ms Miller's house so I could save face. I don't know how Dave managed that legal wrangling but Alvin…the very last thing I told him when we fought was the first thing I said to him the first time he visited me at home. I've never been weaker in all my life but…when Alvin came and kept me company. Even when I was trying to chase him away, he…he stayed.'

Realization struck her like a bolt of lightening as she sought to stop her tears but they continued to flow. 'Alvin cared. I don't know why, despite our history, but he cared. He saw my suicide note the first night and that's why he kept coming back all the time for the rest of the summer. He was trying to keep a watch over me to make sure I'd keep my mind off of things and my hand out of that drawer where I kept the knife. He genuinely cared. Me? I was genuine too…a real genuine suicidal bitch.' She anxiously tried to wipe away her tears and continued to only try to stop the unstoppable. 'I…I love him, don't I?' "Heh?" She laughed strangely. "I said I hated to love him, and now…I love him."

"Well, you realize it at last, eh?" A new voice asked.

To her credit, Brittany didn't get startled. She calmly looked to her side to see Valerie standing there with a bemused look on her face. "Don't you know the meaning of privacy?"

"I know it," the woman replied. "But I can't help it if the people who're going on about privacy do their private business for me to see."

"What do you want? You want to blackmail me?" Brittany asked bitterly. "I don't care. You can go all 'she said so-and-so' to Alvin for all I care. Maybe he hates me. I wouldn't blame him."

"Alvin? Hate you?" The woman sounded like she wanted to laugh as she recalled her conversation with the red Seville on the plane but knew she had to keep her mouth shut about it. "I doubt it. Do you think he'd go out of his way to help you so much if he did?"

"Maybe I just reminded him of a reason he should hate me. Back then, if we had had guns, we would've shot each other to death."

"Nah. I don't believe it." Valerie looked to be contemplative. "What I believe is that Alvin might have gone through puberty before you."

"What?" Brittany couldn't believe it as she tried to grasp what the woman was saying. "You expect me to believe that we were at each other's throats like how little kids feel comfortable only with their own genders, then Alvin finally _liked_ me and we stopped fighting because he stopped pranking me, stopping from giving me a reason to cuss him out?"

"That's a pretty dry explanation, but yeah. That's exactly what I mean. But now, you've finally made it through yours mentally. Now, you like him back. Or at least you admit it, anyways." Valerie spoke evenly. She found it nearly hilarious that the two teens had basically admitted to her that they loved the other, but found it hard to admit it to one another.

"Well, I guess you didn't hear enough. I tried to apologize for how I used to treat him in our history together, and its like I reminded him or something."

"…" Valerie raised an eyebrow, expectant and waiting for her to continue.

"I got explicit sometimes," Brittany admitted. "So anyway, forget about me. How's Ellie? Will she be okay?"

"She's fine." Valerie adopted a stern expression. "She's fine. Better than fine even. Maybe now, you guys might actually take these people seriously! Dave won't listen to me! It's as if he wants you all to decide for him! Brittany, I'm gonna be real with you." The woman's voice was all business and serious. It's basically Simon's and your call. You can convince Dave to go home. Hell, even if he isn't convinced, I'll personally put forward the airfare to fly you back home to California."

"You can do that?"

"I can."

Brittany became lost in thought about her next move but found that she could not decide. "Um…could I give you an answer later? I uh, my sisters, Eleanor needs me. They need me." Now, she began to think of what Alvin had meant by why he didn't want her to leave. Was it because he didn't want her to leave behind the rest of them? Her family? Him? She didn't know. But for now, if she left, it would be nothing but cowardice. She'd be risking a lot more than just a conscience or maybe even her neck but as she had always known, nothing ventured, nothing gained.

"Oh? Are you sure it's not the other way around?" Valerie stretched. "Anyway, Theodore got Eleanor to pitch her cookies. That greasy water and spinning her in circles had her puking everything out of her system. No poison, all healthy."

"Valerie, thanks. For saving my sister."

"Thanks? Me? That's not necessary. In fact, don't thank me at all." The woman mumbled at last.

"Why?"

"Because it will have meant nothing if none of you leaves Miami alive."

 **=X=X=**

The hacker looked at her laptop silently, watching the C & C singers and their manager in their apartment. Simon and Jeanette were seemingly conspiring together as thick as thieves, Alvin was asleep while hugging his own chest tightly, Brittany was having one of her low times and the last two, Theodore and Eleanor was in the bathroom. Eleanor seemed to have gotten the last of anything in her completely out of her system while Theodore held back her hair. After she was done, he stroked her back gently and spoke to her. There was no audio, but the hacker could tell that he was consoling her.

"Aww. Good for you, Eleanor. You've got a good one. Hold onto him. But I wonder…will you ever know how I saved your life? I've taken some drastic measures this time to keep you six alive. But the longer you stay, the more that preying Raven will get desperate."

 **Well, this is better than a cliffhanger, ain't it? Now, we have them BOTH having love for one another but won't admit to each other. And sorry about the little flashback. It's not a retcon way of adding more drama, it's only to show how vindictive they were to one another and why Alvin was so hesitant to tell her his feelings and why he thinks he doesn't deserve her. But those pranks…feel free to try 'em out on your family, readers! Just don't cry to me if it gets you hated!**

 **We have a setup for a faster pace too. I like this chapter, despite it being a derailment. It was supposed to be a Theonor chapter, but I guess they've had the best shipping bit in this fic. They'll just keep having their time in the background. Anyway, later and good night. Err, morning.**

 **Valete omnes,**

 **MRAY 4TW.**


	28. Chapter 28 (Revelation: First Expo)

**AATC: Territory**

 **Well, it's Easter Monday, currently. Due to my beliefs, I don't celebrate Easter, (suspects that it's pagan), although I will eat some of the sweets my country (Jamaica), has from time to time. That is, buns and cheeses.**

 **But nothing's stopping me from wishing you a happy one to you if you do celebrate it. Happy Easter.**

 **I've been doing some work on another AATC fic called 'Of Dreams and Truth', of which I'm sure most of you knew about already. Thanks for swinging by to read it and even bigger thanks for leaving a review if you have. And to the guest reviewer(s) over there, well, here I am working on AATC: Territory like you wanted, as well as a PM here and there from well-wishers who wanted to see and update. Here it is; you're welcome.**

 **And for the record, I'll never leave a fic unfinished. But as we all know, tomorrow is promised to no one, so if you see me never update anything again, you know that something terrible has happened. (To me). Let's face reality…even if we don't want to.**

 **Thank you for your continued support and understanding.**

 **Signed: M. Ray  
Date: April 17, 2017 (Easter Monday)**

 **28\. (Revelation: 1st Exposition)**

"We need evidence."

No answer.

"We need to deliberate on a solution for this problem. At this juncture, we need to find a way to gather some evidence and present it to the proper authorities."

"…"

"Alvin, are you even listening?"

"…"

Simon shook his head. "I used to believe that I had two brothers. As it seems, I only have one, and the big sister of mine is seeing her time of the month."

"Shut up, Simon."

"Well, now you speak when your masculinity is in question. Have you been listening to me?"

Alvin rubbed his eyes while he pulled his cap lower down over his eyes. "Yeah. I heard."

"Were you _listening_?"

"Yes!" Came the exasperated response.

They remained quiet for a while as Simon continued to think of what was bothering his big brother. Before he could say anything, Alvin spoke again.

"Hey. Simon."

"Yes, Alvin?"

"Um…" The red Seville hesitated. "Who do you think sings better? Us, or the chipettes?"

Well, there was no easy way to answer that question, was there? If he said the chipettes, Alvin would say that his love for Jeanette had addled his mind and he was a sellout but if he said that he and his brothers sung better, then he would have stroked his and Alvin's ego. Worse, if the results of this question ever made it back to any of the others…well, who knew what could happen?

What to answer?

"We both sing terribly. Or else we'd be rich and we'd never have had to be in this situation in the first place." Simon replied sagely. "Risking our lives just to make some money to feed ourselves."

"Who put us in debt?"

"A lot of things put us in debt, Alvin. The price of living, for starters, your little stunt that put you in the hospital, Ms. Miller's send off and laying her to rest..."

Stop. Where was Alvin going with this? Was he trying to get him (Simon) to help him cast stones? To help him accuse the Millers that this was their fault?

"Alvin? You're not trying to pin this whole thing on the Millers, are you?" He watched his big brother who was sprawled on the bed lean over the side and get to his feet. Given how he was standing, he now looked down on Simon who remained seated by the bed in a chair.

"Of course not. It's just that there seems to be a whole lot of coincidences leading up to this, and they're all causing this to happen."

"Correlation is **not** _causation_ ," Simon quoted wisely.

"What does that mean?"

"Just because several things are happening, doesn't mean they cause each other to happen. Are we getting targeted out here in Miami just because you broke some of your bones like matchwood?"

"No. Kinda? Not sure."

"…" Simon sighed. "People eat more ice-cream in the summer. In the summer, there are more drowning incidents. Therefore, ice-cream causes people to drown."

"No, it doesn't. Well, Brittany and I haven't drowned, so that can't be true. It must be something else."

Simon smiled to himself, finally getting somewhere with his sometimes-dense brother. "In the summer, people try to cool off in water-bodies by going swimming more often. Just because people are eating more ice cream doesn't mean that it kills them. They correlate by timing, but they don't cause each other to happen. See where I'm going with this?"

"Yeah. I get it now. But what you just said basically told me that there's something else that is still missing; something we don't know. What don't we know?"

"Why you're acting like an emo?" Came the dry question, causing Alvin to frown sourly.

"Very funny. It's just that Brittany _apologized_ to me last night. Can you believe it?"

"Um…for what?" Simon was rarely confused. This was one of those rare times.

"For how she used to badmouth us. Like calling us 'talentless hacks'. You know, back out west when Ms. Millers used to be around. They were jealous of us. _She_ , I mean."

"So, apology accepted, I take it?" Simon replied as if the answer was obvious. "Right? Did you forgive her? Tell me you did, and that it's all 'water under the bridge'."

"I didn't. It's not like she would have forgiven me for what I did to her." Alvin fidgeted uncomfortably. "I mean, I did some heavy-handed pranks. I forgive her, and then she can't forgive me, it'd be like she one-upped me or something. And the fact that she found it in herself all this time to ask for forgiveness and I haven't even given a thought to it…it made me feel terrible. Like I was uncaring or something."

"That's a terrible reason. And knowing you, whenever you do something, you make sure you have a good reason, a good excuse. You're lying." Simon shook his head. "Do you hate Brittany?"

"That's what I wanna know too."

Both of the boys looked up to see the topic of their spat standing in the doorway and needless to say, both had mixed reactions in seeing her. Simon was the first to recover his cool, begged for pardon and excused himself from the room past Brittany. Leaving Alvin to his fate wasn't his intention, he was just protecting himself; he didn't need any of their angst rubbing off on him.

"Do you hate me, Alvin?" Her bottom lip quivered just the tiniest bit for a single second. It surprised him, but what surprised him more was the fact that he noticed it in the first place. Now, as he looked at her, he realized that she had spent a long sleepless night as well. It could have been a number of things but if one thing was sure, it was probably his response to her.

Or lack of one.

"No. I don't. I don't hate you Brittany." He was sincere. "And I'm sorry for acting up. It's just that…" He looked down, finding his shoes to be more interesting all of a sudden; it had become a study as he avoided her aqua-ice gaze. "When I started pranking you back, I got kinda carried away."

"I deserved it."

"…" He was about to disagree before a new thought came to mind. "Yeah, you did." He stepped forward closer to her. "Even the green teeth you got after I put food coloring in your toothbrush and your toothpaste."

"Uh huh." She seemed to have caught on to what he was getting at, and she started stepping forward as well. "You really were a poser when I told everyone," she accused while jabbing a finger at him, "absolutely no talent."

"You were a bitch."

"Alvin, you were a dick."

"You were positively awful."

"I'd have hated to even waste body fluids by spitting in your direction."

"You hadn't a clue how to perform on a stage and yet you wanted to be a star!"

"Got lucky to be on a stage, then bragged to anyone who wouldn't even care to listen!"

They were practically yelling into each other's faces now, their loud voices echoing back to them in the room. But they hadn't a care.

"Damn it, Brittany, don't try to sing louder than your sisters or everyone's going to know that you're the only one that can't sing!"

"You play like crap, Alvin! It's a good thing you always forget to plug in your electric guitar!"

At the last, they were staring at each other intently, panting like angry bulls, not wanting to flinch from the other's gaze.

Then they began laughing hysterically.

"Did you finally got it out of your system, oh Great Seville?"

"Feeling a lot better, how about you, Lady Wonder?" In her response to this, she pulled him into a hug and squeezed tightly.

"Yeah. A lot better, you faker," she whispered.

"We were just faking that?" Alvin pretended to play dumb.

"Ha-ha, very funny," she mumbled sarcastically, yet playfully. "I just wanted to make sure that you didn't hate me, especially because of the way you're always acting up around me. That's cause for celebration."

"Make it a double celebration. You don't hate my guts either. I care about you, Brittany. I really do." It felt fantastic to finally get it off of his chest and something urged him on to continue the line, while the timing was still right. However, he held off.

"Ditto."

"Too lazy to even talk?"

"Just like you," she accused. "We're too alike. It's creepy. In a good way." Reluctantly, she pulled out of the hug and Alvin immediately missed the closeness of their body contact. Like there was a strange frigidness in his life before her warm hug chased it away. The cold felt like it was trying to ebb back in, although it was mostly quelled. He wondered if she felt the same and would have liked to hug her again (or perhaps something **more** than that) but he felt that he would only make himself look like a weird pervert or something.

"Alvin." She plopped herself on his bed and he followed suit beside her. "I, um…I need some advice."

"Whoa. That's a poor move. Maybe you should've gone to Jeanette, Valerie, Simon, maybe. I don't exactly have a track record of making good decisions."

She playfully slugged him in his shoulder. "True. But this is different."

"How come?"

"It's about me staying in Miami." She cut to the chase. "Valerie bought me a plane ticket to go back home to get away from all this madness. Do you think I should go back home, or stay?"

"…"

"…" She leveled a cool gaze at him, waiting for his response.

"Well, as much as I'd love to say 'this is your decision to make', I can't. To be honest, I'm not sure."

"Why?" She had thought that a brash Alvin could always make up his mind when ready. He had always been the one to say that one should commit to one's actions with no hesitation. He spoke from experience, she guessed. Like his parkour hobby.

"I don't want to see you get hurt while you're here and you'd be a whole lot safer back home. But I don't want you to leave, either. Your family is still here. We're all still here."

That's what he said.

That's not what she heard.

She heard that he was saying that _he_ was still here. Alvin was still here. He hadn't sounded like he forgot to say it, or didn't mean to say it. He sounded as if he deliberately chose not to say it. As if he was afraid of admitting something to her.

And she was right.

"Well, what should I do?"

Alvin thought for a while on this, before thinking back to his experiences. "Well, a lot of people talk about dedication to an action. It's actually really easy, like walking. You just have to put one foot in front of the other. Like for instance, I'm in walking distance to get home, and I see the bus stop. If I start waiting on the bus, I'm going to end up waiting on it to come pick me up. An hour, two hours, who knows if it'll even come at all? Maybe in a minute. No one knows."

She nodded, trying to get a feel of where he was going with this. He smiled in appreciation knowing that she was listening and continued.

"But I could have gone home at any time by walking. If I had chosen to walk home at the offset, I would say 'oh, it's easy to walk'. The bus might pass me on the way home, or maybe it won't. It's not like I'm going to turn back to head back to the bus stop when I'm halfway. I just have to start doing something, and I'll continue until I'm finished. Once I make the decision fully to go either way, I won't second guess if I should have waited on the bus if it passes me while I'm walking, or bitch about how I could have walked home when it takes too long to come by and pick me up."

"I'm starting to see where you're going with this. You're trying to tell me that I should only do something once I fully commit to doing it in the first place."

 **=X=X=**

"Everything's packed?"

"Yeah."

"Got any trail mix and what-not for when you're driving to the airport?"

She held up a bag of mix with a superior smirk. "Of course I do. I never forget it." However, the red Seville snatched it from her and began helping himself. "Hey!"

"Sorry…You always…make the…best mix," he mumbled between mouthfuls.

"Still doesn't excuse the fact that you could've asked for it! Ugh, not even a 'thank you'!"

"F-haanks." He mumbled with a full mouth before he swallowed thickly and handed back the bag that was now two-thirds full.

She shook her head while rolling her eyes. "One of these days, Alvin, you're gonna eat my trail mix and find that I used painted river pebbles instead to break out all of your teeth."

"Sure, sure. But all your bags are packed, right!"

"Yes. I have everything." She gestured to her wheel-suitcase that she tugged at by the handle. "Could you get the door?"

He obliged her and quickly held it open for her. It was there that she stared at the open doorway and went slowly to it. Alvin stood beside her. "C'mon. You only need to take one step to make up your mind if you're going. 'Once begun, it's half done'," he quoted uncharacteristically, but she barely heard it. She was too busy thinking and making up her mind. She could see herself walking on, traveling to the airport, flying back home, taking one last taxi and reaching home. On the other hand, she could see herself staying, being persecuted in Miami and eventually biting a bullet. It was all too real to her and any sane person could make up their mind and make the right choice easily. Self-preservation and all.

All she needed to do was to put a single foot through the door, and she would continue. Just a step. One step.

She hesitated once more before she sighed. "Alvin, I can't even take a step through the door."

"Need an escort? Want me to follow you or something?" He asked, unsure.

"No. It's not that I'm afraid they'll try to pop my cap or anything. I'm not going. Help me unpack and…" She held up her trail mix while smiling. "And we can share this."

"Oh goody!" He half-cheered in mock celebration. "I mean, you know, the trail mix. Not because you're staying. You can go, but leave the mix."

"Ouch. Alright! Fine!" She made as if she would leave after all and Alvin panicked a bit.

"Wait!" He held up a hand in front of her. "I didn't mean it."

She frowned like a thundercloud before breaking out into a grin. "Neither did I. And so Brittany smacks it outta sight; Alvin, not even ready to bat."

And his sigh told her that he knew he had fallen for her trick; hook, line and sinker. Satisfied that she had won at her latest gaff, she changed off her footwear like he did for something more appropriate. But before she could reach in her suitcase to pull out her pink slippers, she felt something foreign prick her foot in the instep in the thick carpeting; in fact, it felt somewhat sharp.

"Ow! What's that?"

"What's what?" Alvin asked curiously. She didn't answer straightaway as she reached down and sought out the object in the furs of the carpet and finally came back up with what looked like a memory card. "Hey, is that a memory card? The last visitor in this suite must've dropped it on accident." Alvin asked. "Can I have it? Mine is running out of space again."

"Clean your cache junk, Alvin! Besides, you have a thirty-two gigabyte memory card. Mine's barely an eight-gigabyte one," the pink Miller protested as she popped the memory card into her phone deftly so that she could use it. "Besides, finders are keepers. Sevilles are weepers."

"Fine. You take it. But you gotta look in the file manager app to see how much space it has and format it." He reached over and politely took her phone from her to do it himself, just so that he could demonstrate. "See? Wait…I didn't…holy crap!"

"What? What is it? What's wrong? There isn't a virus or anything on it, right?"

"Brittany, the app's saying that only five megabytes are free…and nearly five hundred gigabytes worth of space is being used."

"Yikes. That can't right," Brittany scoffed. "Five hundred gigabytes on a single memory card? That's too big. We should just format it or something, 'cause a virus must be making it look large. I've heard of viruses doing things like that."

But being who he was, Alvin opened the contents of the memory card anyway. Brittany didn't know what he did, but she had to ask what had happened when she saw his eyes widened and jaw dropped.

 **=X=X=**

The phone rang out in her pocket, startling her awake. She knew who was calling; she gave each person their own unique ringtone so whenever she heard her boss's rap-metal screaming out from the phone's speakers, she knew it was him.

She was really getting tired of this crap.

The hacker had spent another fruitless night in the chipettes' bedroom looking for her lost memory card but no such luck. The carpeting was too thick and at the risk of having the information exploits on it exposed, she knew that it would all come apart so fast, there would be shrapnel. Perhaps she should just give it up as lost and perhaps call for the hotel services to do one of those instant cleanings they were famous for. Like in instances when couples who fornicated in their rooms and made a 'mess', and the hotel would use special vacuum cleaners that washed and dried the carpeting. The machines' workings would kill the memory card and perhaps even retain it in its waste bin. La-la-la, evidence; none to be found.

The phone was still ringing.

She unwillingly picked up the call. "Hello?"

" _Oh. Good morning. Doing alright?"_

Well, that was strange. He sounded a lot more cordial than that he was known for, even on his birthday when in private. "You sound kinda chipper. Did you win a lottery or something?"

" _No, no. It's just that I saw your handiwork. Very nice. You took some initiative last night, huh? Rat poison. It shows that you're trying to keep up with me."_

That sickened her. She hadn't meant to poison Eleanor, poor girl. The fact that she still suffered, not physically, but in other aspects like mentally and emotionally only sent the woman into guilt. 'But it was for her own good,' the hacker consoled herself in her mind. "I heard something through the grapevine that your gang has; it said that you were going to shoot her yourself. I just decided that since she's a foodie like her boyfriend, I'd take some of the pressure off you. Besides, you can't afford to dirty your hands in this business, especially with these children. Too much risk. Besides, I did it a lot more… _elegantly_ than just firing a gun. But sad to say, the children had a friend and she helped them to make her vomit it out. Shame."

" _That you did, although it is a damn shame. But hey, I was watching through some of the spare cameras you set up for me in the hallways. It's not in full color and it's kinda hard to make out this woman's features. I need some intel on her. What's her name? A full picture of her in color? Identification? Any past offenses?"_ The rap-metal singer pressed.

"I don't really have anything on her. Haven't really seen anything of consequence on her until now. I'd need to go take a picture of her in person or something and you know I don't get out often. You know. I still don't trust you that much," she accused in the form of a lame joke.

Vincent laughed almost smugly over the phone. _"I know. Don't worry, your secret's safe. So long as you don't do anything stupid, your little screw-up on video won't go viral. And we both know that you're not stupid, or else you would have been doing twenty-five years or even a life sentence already in a maximum security prison, or taking a lethal injection."_

The hacker gritted her teeth. "Yeah. I know. We both know. What's your next move, huh?"

" _You might find out on the news. That is if they don't pack their bags and leave the f*ckin' state first. I know at least one of them should be smart enough to. Ciao."_

With the ending of the call, the hacker shoved her phone back into her hip pocket and booted up Kali Linux on her laptop to get to her usual business. By the end of this week, something was going to happen and she mightn't be around to see it. By the end of all this, she might end up 'in a box', or 'under locks'. That is to say, dead in a casket or getting arrested.

But for now, she existed. But what could she do? She was looking bad by helping them, so she had had to get back into Ravin' Raven's good books. She had to take antagonist action against the children, as much as she had hated to, just to protect herself and save Eleanor in the process. And although she would have liked to finally have her chance to get some hard evidence on the Vincent such as him committing cold-blooded murder, it just wasn't the way, especially not with these children in his warpath. But Eleanor wasn't in danger of perishing anymore, so that was a positive. Right?

It had been a hell-of-a two years. There had hardly been any good happenings since the first accident. None, in fact.

A car accident was a frightful thing. It was like an earthquake. You know all the damage it can cause, what to do in its occurrence and in the aftermath. But no matter that, because when things started shaking, people lost their heads and reacted in horror to the point of not doing what they were supposed to.

Before accidents, people know to drive in their lanes, obey the road signs, and wear seatbelts and what-not. But that hardly mattered when brakes started failing, the signs malfunctioned and badly maintained seatbelts tore right from their sockets. Car accidents were liable to happen to anyone.

She watched him. Ravin' Raven was now traveling by vehicle in his BMW from his house; a more fitting vehicle for use in town rather than in his limousine since he was on a rather private business. She could see him through the street cameras and he would be passing through one of the busiest intersections in the city soon, as he usually did each morning to get to his recording studio.

Spying her chance again, she quickly hacked into the traffic lights at the intersection that he would be passing through. In a few seconds, all she would have to do was hit the 'ENTER' key to send the payload of program exploitation to change the red lights to green at the key moment for the wrong line of traffic. It would put the singer in more than just a 'fender bender', and he'd be buried inside the month. Her index finger hovered over the button, poised in its position of power.

…5…

…4…

…3…

…2…

…1…

He passed through the intersection safely, and her finger still remained over the button in her hesitation. Cursing herself for still not going through with the act, she slammed the laptop shut almost hard enough to nearly break it before storming out of the room to enter her bathroom to freshen up.

Her memories plagued her as she washed her face. She meandered away from them as she tried to focus on the present. She had to remain strong. There was too much to do and she couldn't afford to have a breakdown-

Wait…

'What did he say? 'At least one of them _**is**_ _ **smart**_ _ **enough**_ to. Smart enough?'

Realization dawned on her face. "Oh, shit! Simon!" She nearly blazed a path from her bathroom back to her bedroom where her laptop was, her face still dripping wet with water as well from her frazzled hair. "He's smart enough. He's the only 'smart' one left that hasn't been targeted!" She hissed fiercely. She opened up the laptop in haste and quickly smacked her 'Alt' button and the 'F4' button at the same time to close off her traffic camera and hacking window to open a new one in the chipmunk's suite to see if he was there.

She didn't see him.

She opened a new window to try to see if she could see him in the chipettes' bedroom via her home-made camera, but nothing came of that either. She couldn't even access its history since it had no memory card in it.

Well, what's the history of the one in the chipmunks' suite?

Working feverishly, she quickly went through the recording history of the chipmunks' suite until she saw him. 'Wait. Stop'. She quit her rewinding and observed his conversation with Alvin. 'He wants evidence of Ravin' Raven? Good luck with that, not even I have that.' She thought with regret. 'Now, let's see where you are.' She slowly fast forwarded and tracked Simon leaving Brittany and Alvin to talk privately and saw him pacing alone until he made up his mind about something. Another fast-forwarded minute later caught him sneaking out of the suite.

"Damn it!" The hacker cursed. Exiting her program windows again, she tried to run a search for his GPS, or even his phone's IP address over the internet to find his location in the city. When she couldn't find it, she face-palmed herself. "Oh, of course. You just had to be one of the smart ones who doesn't keep his GPS on for Google to use, and besides that, you use a Virtual Private Network to bounce your IP signal all over the damn planet. Are you doing it to avoid me? Jeanette, or even Alvin and Brittany must've told everyone about me and it made you wise up to stay off the grid. I'm trying to help you all!" She mumbled furiously. Running on fumes and deciding that she had no time to run a modded search for his whereabouts via his phone, she went for an easier route by searching for him by using the cameras in the city.

"Well, you seem to have a wardrobe full of identical blue shirts. Let's just look for a short stack in a blue sweater." She began to scroll through all of his potential locations, even the bad ones that he might be by looking through the different camera feeds. A feverish gaze and her flitting eyes watched so many things at once that it began to make her head hurt, but she kept on. Finally, she found him walking briskly among crowds of people and if his direction was any clue, he was heading to Ravin' Raven's mansion.

"Simon? What the f-"

That was all she had time to mutter before her suite door was rapped smartly in a series of knocks. "Hey, Valerie? Could I talk to you for a minute?"

The hacker looked up from her laptop as her working high nearly maddened her. "Brittany? Yeah? What is it?" She closed the laptop and rested it aside, wondering was transpiring this time. The woman then got up to approach the door, smoothing out her clothes and her copper hair along the way.

"I need to talk to you a minute."

"Sure. Well, at least you're more polite than Simon and you knocked first instead of barging in."

"Yeah, polite and whatever," the chipette said brightly, although she frowned like a storm as she waited outside the woman's room with Alvin who crouched outside the door who shared a similar look on his face. On the inside of the room, Valerie hadn't a clue what this was all about and figured that it was because of the plane ticket she had bought for her.

"Is this about the plane ticket?" Valerie opened the door wide to let in the chipette if she wanted or to go outside. "You're still here? I thought you'd have left." However, she was thrown off when she saw the chipette who looked rather…pissed and disappointed for some reason.

"Yeah. I'm still here."

* * *

 **Well, damn. Now you know. As usual, MRAY 4TW has surprised most of his audience. In case you don't know, M. Ray, (Which is me) is known for his legendary 'Revelation' Chapters. It goes to show that while you think you know something, I show how I've slapped you in the face with clues as to an important element of a story when you should have realized it from the start. Most of you should have seen this coming, but I feel kinda sorry for you if you didn't.**

 **Don't know what a 'Revelation' Chapter is?**

 **Let's just say that on a single Friday night in Chapter 13 in a certain story, MRAY 4TW made roughly around two thousand readers face-palm themselves at how clueless they've been and quite a few more of the late readers in the days following.**

 **What? Am I stroking my ego? Well, let me have this. It'd been a while since I got this story moving at such a terrific pace. It should continue this pace into the next chapter. But uh, bye-bye for a while so I'm sorry for leaving you with this cliffhanger.**

 **I need to work on some cover art for the upcoming story with Jake Miller. Adobe Software is kinda hard to work with if you haven't much experience with it. I can make a webpage, but not a single picture with some symbols with another one of their programs?**

 **Shame on me.**

 **Jake, it's been busy, friend, but I'm almost done. Hope I haven't looked too badly. But continuance is strength, so we shall continue. But I've been thinking…should we bring aboard more hands for this project? A fellow writer or two seem to be mighty interested.**

 **Well, that's it.**

 **Valete omnes,**

 **MRAY 4TW.**


	29. Chapter 29 (Revelation: Second Expo)

**AATC: Territory**

 **Well, I've overshot the estimated chapter count for the story. Time for the adventure part of the story, I guess. Oh, and I let a tiny bit more colorful language into the chapter to keep characters in…well, keeping characters in character. By continuing to read, you don't have a problem with that.**

 **Matters Arising – So yeah, I've got three counts of flames, and I suspect it to be the same person. I don't know who you are. But what I do know, is that if you're trying to hurt me emotionally, you're terrible at it. I've seen better burns in Youtube comments. After looking over your vocabulary, when you post and where you leave your reviews, you're obviously some impatient fourteen year old girl trying to get me to update faster. You haven't sped up the update or delayed it. This chapter was cooking for a week in editing. Besides, if you really think I can't write, then why would you read my story? It's obvious that you've been following this story by browsing, or on your phone by** _ **skipping to the last chapter to check for updates**_ **, but I never thought I'd see the day when a cliffhanger would drive someone to the point of flaming. And if this was really about you hating on this story, well then, feel free. I'll keep moderating your hate, and I'll keep breathing.**

 **Besides that, everyone, enjoy the chapter.**

 **29.**

"Well, don't just stand there like a terracotta statue. Come on in." Valerie invited the chipette with a beckon before she already started walking back into the bedroom area of her suite. "And shut the door behind you."

Brittany neglected to close the door immediately but Alvin didn't come inside; he stayed outside. She still had yet to figure out her true intentions here, but she needed someone in her inner circle with her, like Alvin. Said chipmunk was outside the door; who knew what was going on in his mind. But never matter; he was staying just outside waiting. The police would soon arrive anyway, Brittany believed, as she finally shut the door.

But that didn't matter the most in Brittany's mind. What was centered on her mind was one question.

Who was Valerie?

"Terracotta? What the hell is that?" Brittany asked to address the woman's earlier comment, slightly confused.

"Clay." The woman said sharply. She had it in mind that the girl was here for advice. She was sure that that the girl would have just taken her up on her offer and leave Miami, but here she was, unintentionally complicating things. Goddamn teenage drama. Didn't they know that it was far easier to go with the flow? Besides, her life was at stake; didn't she care?

"You sure know a lot, don't you?"

"I think I know more…than the average person?" Valerie shook her head as she glanced towards her bedroom where her laptop was, knowing of an impending crisis concerning Simon. "Could you make this fast? What is it?" She sat in her armchair in the living room portion of her suite, while Brittany mirrored her action by sitting in another identical chair. "Is this about the plane ticket? I thought you would've left already."

"No."

"Afraid of traveling by yourself?" Valerie pressed, trying to shoot many questions in the dark in the hopes of cutting the girl's visit short, or at least prompt her to spit out whatever's on her mind.

…

On the outside, Alvin scowled to himself as he continued to wait. His mind was in a bit of a mess; Brittany left it like that when she showed a new colour of hers when they had gone through the large cache of video content on the memory card.

…

" _I'm going to talk to her."_

" _Are you crazy? About what? Like what pair of shoes to wear with which dress?" He hissed._

 _Brittany's face fell before it contorted in anger. "Well, screw you, Alvin!" She said bitterly. "You didn't get to watch some twisted video of seeing her stick some huge needle in_ _ **your**_ _neck!"_

" _She's dangerous! We should just call the police!" Alvin fidgeted uncomfortably._

" _Oh…you mean the same phones that the bitch upstairs might have tapped or something?!" Brittany scream-whispered._

" _Well, let's just tell Dave!"_

" _He's not here. Look, either way, one of us better distract her or something while someone else makes the call. Like it or not, I want my goddamn answers! She's been with us this whole time, helps us or at least_ _ **pretends to**_ _, only for me to watch some video of seeing her stick a needle in my neck nearly every night!"_

" _All the more reason why we should just go to the police!"_

" _She can use the cameras of the whole city as far as we can see; she can mess with our phones. She'd be on to us before we even finish pressing the last digit of '911', or to run to the police station, only for them to come back and find her not here!"_

 _Alvin sighed as he could feel himself relenting. "God, I swear, once you get like this..." Brittany rolled her eyes before she began to struggle for extra-room to maneuver, but accidentally elbowed Alvin in his side. "Agh! Geez! Careful!"_

" _Sorry! Sorry!"_

" _No, not just for that. I mean with Valerie." The chipmunk could barely twist his own arm properly to nurse his bruised side. "We don't know what she's really capable of. We should just wait for Dave."_

 _Brittany was silent for a while. Alvin was rather glad that he couldn't see her face; she was probably mad enough to chew nails. "You don't think I can do this, do you?"_

" _It's not that. It feels like we're just jumping into something headfirst without looking-"_

" _Isn't that usually a motto of yours?" Brittany reminded. "To jump without looking or you'll hesitate?" There wasn't anything he could say in reply to a convicting question like that. He had to concede, and Brittany took his silence that he was finally warming up to what she wanted. Made her feel like she was overbearing, but this felt like something she had to do. "Look Alvin, I know I have you in my corner. Just call the police while I distract her. Think about it like that, m'kay?"_

" _You sure you don't wanna switch jobs? I can distract her while you call the police-"_

" _Alvin." She spoke dead-stop. "Call. The. Police."_

 _The chipmunk sighed. "Yes dear," he mumbled sarcastically. "I swear, it's like I must be wearing skirts nowadays, and you're the one who's wearing long pants." He accidentally leaned too much to one side and fell out through the door of the closet they had been hiding (and conversing), in._

…

He hadn't meant it as an insult; he believed that he was expected to back off because he knew that she had been right. He was now utterly convinced that he actually loved Brittany. (Maybe he was 'whipped' and didn't even know.) Hell, even Valerie had helped him along to realize that. Was the woman such a bad person, after all?

He shook his head before he got out of his cell-phone, pressing the keys for '911' so hard that he nearly cracked the screen. As he dialed and paced away from the Valerie's suite, he wondered how he should report what he needed to tell the cops.

 **=X=X=**

The copper-haired woman knew one thing: the internet was pretty damn huge. On it, while it was true that she spent a lot of time watching videos, she also learnt things. Like social mechanics.

Valerie shook her head as she observed the chipette's strange behavior. Maybe Brittany didn't know about her damning secret yet. But that memory card was becoming more and more of a dangerous liability-

Brittany suddenly started laughing.

Valerie raised her eyebrow at this, wondering what curve ball that life had thrown her way this time.

Brittany laughed and continued to do so. It soon died down into chortles, but if there was one thing that Valerie noticed, was that the mirth never quite made it to the girl's eyes. "So…you help Jeanette, then warn her by threatening to kill us…"

"Excuse me?" Valerie blinked, suddenly worried.

"Telling me and Alvin to get lost or die, poison Eleanor, then turns around and helps her to puke it out…"

"Excuse me? I'm not following." A small bead of sweat sprouted on her brow and the woman absently swiped at it. She knew that that Brittany had caught on; the only reason, the only 'how and why' in this case was that she had gotten to the memory card. How horribly convenient.

"This whole time, sticking a needle full of God-knows-what in my neck nearly every night and then just _offers_ to buy me a plane ticket to go back home!" Brittany shouted the last, making Valerie visibly recoil in her startle. The pink Miller calmed down somewhat before leveling an icy glare at the redhead. "And I have to ask..."

"Um, what are you talking about? Valerie pretended, but only served to piss off Brittany more.

"Who is our helper? Who is our attacker? Who is our friend? Who is our enemy? Who…is…Valerie?"

That was it. All had been dropped. Valerie knew that Brittany was no longer ignorant. The problem was, who else knew? Did anyone else know?

Was all of this pretending still really necessary?

A new thought popped into her mind. Sedation.

Perhaps there could still be a way to salvage this. If she could pop Brittany another sedative, drop her in bed, she could pass it off that she had been dreaming, while finding the memory card to tie up her loose ends. (The card was most likely in the girl's phone.)

It was a small chance…but the question had been asked and Valerie was afraid of the answer.

Who was she?

…

Quiet. Silent. She had been in thought for a long time.

"Look, I don't have time for this nonsense." Valerie got up from the chair, intent on attending to more important matters at hand. The idea of sedation still lingered in her mind, but there was no need to potentially dig her grave any deeper. She turned to head towards her bedroom where her laptop was, eager to just find a way to contact Simon. However, it was in that very same instant that Brittany blew her stack, angered that the woman had just blown off everything she had said as if it wasn't important at all.

" **You** **BITCH**!"

Valerie barely had time to react as Brittany flung herself at her. Although she was no slouch at defending herself, Valerie found herself tackled face-down to the floor; Brittany was already beating on her with her small fists and tearing at her hair. Just because Brittany didn't have the weight and size of a pro fighter didn't mean that any of her strikes didn't hurt.

Adrenaline coursed through Brittany's body, serving to boost her physical might and her anger. "You threatened Jeanette! You poisoned my little sister!" She punctuated each word with a blow to Valerie's head, intent on extracting her fair pound of flesh from the woman. Given how furious she was, that could have been taken literally.

Valerie could feel the chipette's knuckles rasp painfully against the back of her head, then the horrible _uprooting_ of her hair as strands were yanked up by the root. She suppressed her cry of pain to a stifled grunt before trying to toss the chipette who rested atop her shoulders and failed miserably.

"You've been sneaking into my room doing God-knows-what to me with that needle!"

"*Ack!* I was-… _trying_ to-…help you! Le' go of **me**!" Valerie tried to choke out. At the last, Alvin burst in through the door, seeming to have been attracted by the noise. Briefly distracted by his appearance, Brittany felt a piercing double-knuckle jab to her ribs that made her suck wind sharply in pain before she was savagely thrown off the woman's shoulders like a bronco.

"Agh!" Brittany narrowly missed hitting her head on the edge of the nearby glass coffee table. Seeing his significant other being mistreated, Alvin was already by her side, trying to help her up. Valerie limped back unto her feet, already feeling bruises and aches beginning to make themselves known on her upper back, neck and head. She had no intention of fighting an unjust fight with a teenage girl, but Alvin had no qualms against letting Valerie know that she wasn't going to get away with hurting the chipette he loved.

In reprisal to the swung punch he dealt to her leg in an effort to trip her up, however, muscle memory of self-defense classes coursed through Valerie's mind and made her act with explosive action, despite her lack of a want of hurting either of the singers. She just acted; a cruel fist curled into Alvin's stomach that knocked all the wind out of him. He sagged off of her outstretched arm and fell to his knees, trying his best to breathe but unable to get enough air. Valerie's hand shook as she stared at both of them, clearly unnerved about how brutally she had reacted. "I was only trying to help…"

"Help?" Brittany spat as she tried to tend to Alvin. "Really?"

As she looked on at the hurt singers, Valerie was starting to doubt her own beliefs and actions as well, even considering that she could have reacted worse. "You wouldn't understand. You're in way over your head. You don't even know-"

"Hey Val!" A new voice hailed from outside the door. Dave let himself through the already-open door with a cup of coffee in both of his hands. "I got us both a pick-me-up…" The man trailed off as he took in the scene; Brittany trying to help Alvin and his son gasping for air as if he was struggling with asthma.

And Valerie standing over them with a clenched fist.

The man's eyes flitted from Valerie, then the children, then back to Valerie again. "What the hell's going on here?! What's the meaning of this?!"

Too late, Valerie let her offending hand fall to her side but the damage had already been done. "Um…Dave, you see, err…the children fell-"

"That's a lie!" Brittany screamed at the woman before she swiveled to the man. "Dave! She's the hacker! She's been working with Ravin' Raven to kill us!"

"What?! No! I haven't-"

"Dave-!" Alvin wheezed as he struggled to get up from his winding. "Call the police."

"Didn't you call them already?!" Brittany hissed loudly to him.

"They-…thought I was a prank caller…"

Brittany fought the urge to face-palm herself. 'The boy who cried wolf. Crap.' "Listen Dave! She's the hacker, alright?! She's been helping that two-faced son-of-a-bitch rapper to kill us! She's been spying on us this whole time, even sticking me with an injection nearly every night! She's even the one who poisoned Eleanor!"

Dave wasn't even paying attention to the chipette's degrading language; this was serious. The man's already stern face grew even colder as he heard the accusations. "Valerie, is this true?"

"No! Of course not! I don't know what these kids are talking about!" Valerie insisted; perhaps the day might yet be salvaged in her favor.

"Oh…I see." Brittany was seething. "I'm sorry Dave. I'm sorry for tricking you. I'm sorry for spying on you. I'm sorry for poisoning my little sister. I'm sorry for helping Ravin' Raven try to kill us. I'm _really_ sorry for lying on Valerie."

The man knew that all the cards had been laid on the table. There was a large tally of the times he had been lied to by his children over the years, even over the slightest mishaps. They owned up to their untruths eventually, but this time, he couldn't possibly deny that he knew deep down that they were telling the truth. The second he glanced towards Valerie, then back to his own hands, he realized that he had been caught flatfooted as they were preoccupied with holding the coffees. He quickly set one down on the nearby coffee table and reached into his pocket, fumbling to get out his cell-phone to carry out the act of calling the police. However, he failed to account for Valerie's possible intervention while he turned away from her.

"NO! DON'T!"

"Look out, Dave!" A warning given but unheeded, Alvin watched as Valerie charged past him to knock the phone from Dave's grasp. The man tried to keep the phone to himself, but failed spectacularly. But in spite of this, the forgotten cup of coffee in his other hand was gripped in a clenching hand that (accidentally) pitched the contents of the scalding stuff into the woman's face.

The woman screamed and bawled for her badly burnt face while scrunching her eyes shut in fear of endangering them too. Not thrilled by the prospect of being one-upped by the woman that hurt both Brittany and himself, Alvin half-threw himself into the woman's path to let her trip over him, making the dreadfully hurt woman topple to the floor, whereupon he quickly got up and grabbed her hands and pinned them against her back.

"Someone get me something to tie her up! Quick!" Alvin yelled. "Brittany! Find a cord or something!" He barked the order; she immediately took off, searching for something that the woman could be bound with. He struggled to keep the woman beneath his weight but every time she tried to struggle, he shifted her hands even higher up her back, threatening to put them out of joint.

"*Gah!* Get off me!" The woman's legs flailed, but she had no way out. "I wasn't targeting anyone!"

Alvin wouldn't have any of it. "Grrr…just shut up!" His attention turned to Dave, who was staring at him holding the woman in submission. "Dave! Quit gawking and call the cops!"

"No! Don't call the police!" The woman begged. "Please!" Dave tried to ignore her as he retrieved his phone from where it had fallen and started dialing the number with conviction, intent on setting things straight.

"Well, honest people don't worry about the police," Alvin taunted. "I hope that Ravin' Raven and you get to bunk together, even though they don't mix genders in prison anymore." At last, Brittany returned with the woman's (laptop) power cable, which she used to lash and tie the woman's arms and hands together in knots so tight that it cut off the woman's circulation while Alvin kept her hands pinned. "Can you tie that part tighter?" Brittany shook her head in answer. "No? It's tight enough already? Good."

The woman continued to yell at Dave while the man waited on the call to go through. Finally, the dispatcher came on the line. _"911, what is your emergency?"_

"Oh? Hello?" Dave plugged his other ear with a finger to tune out the background noise. "I'm calling to report-"

Horror dawned on the redhead, truly afraid of her impending fate. "No! Please!" Tears streamed from her eyes as she implored the man. "Don't call the police!"

"Too late for that!" Brittany said with conviction. "Dave, tell 'em about what's going on."

"No-!"

Dave lost his temper and quickly covered the mic portion of his phone with his hand. "And why shouldn't I? We all trusted you! To know that you're hand-in-hand with people who're out to get us…" He sounded bitter and disappointed. "The police will sort you out-"

"The police are in on it!" The woman shouted back. "You think all of this could happen without the police catching wind of it? Hell, even the deputy chief knows and he can't do a thing against it! The blackmail against them makes sure that Ravin' Raven has them in his backpocket!"

"She's lying! She always has!" Alvin spat. "We even have video proof of her in Brittany's room nearly every night, sticking her injections filled with who-knows-what!"

"R-Raven controls me, and I control everything else. If I get arrested, everyone will be out for my head. The blackmailed police will pony-up charges against me to force me to get rid of the blackmail on them, R-Raven will kill me to shut me up, then he'll just quit the theatrical bullshit and kill you all in your sleep!"

The receiver in Dave's hand spoke again, raising everyone's attention to it. _"911, what's your emergency? Hello?"_

"Listen!" The woman begged. "I'm the one who's been trying to keep him from killing any of you! I'm the one who's been directing you out of danger without him knowing, even though he's suspicious of me. The only reason why he hasn't tried to empty a gun in me is because my skills are too useful for him to just waste me without being absolutely sure that I've turned on him."

Her explanation barely even sounded plausible, but unbeknownst to Dave, both Alvin and Brittany who knew more of the details were somewhat convinced that this sounded…truthful.

"Well, what about Eleanor, huh? You tried to kill her! She's sick in bed downstairs because of you!"

"Then why did I try to help? It's better she's lying down in a bed than in a casket!"

The dispatcher's voice asked again for a report, sounding severe. _"Hello? What's the emergency?"_

"I never said that I was a good person." The woman choked back a sob; her mental traumas were almost as bad as her physically inflicted ones. "I never said I had pure intentions. I never wanted any of this to happen, or even to get involved."

"Then why would you?" Dave glowered at the woman, although his voice had softened just a smidgen. "Why would you want to help us?"

"Because I want to save the six."

 **=X=X=**

Simon scratched his head. "What the-…is everything either 'analog' or manual with Ravin' Raven?" Simon squinted up at the mansion, carefully taking in how 'technologically deprived' the mansion was. No cameras, no sensors, not even an automatic gate. Just two half-asleep security guards by the front gate who didn't even have uniforms. Only jaded faces and batons.

That was it.

It had been a slow walk over; Simon had been getting second thoughts the whole way, seriously considering a retreat back to the safety of the hotel. Thoughts like 'I must be losing my mind' and 'why am I doing the police's work for them' were among the most reoccurring. Although to be fair, he managed to work up some synthetic confidence when he saw the mansion's apparent lack of 'real' security.

"Well, he doesn't splurge on the nicer things in life like live-video surveillance or even some barbed wire to top the fence," Simon muttered. He eyed the tall wall, wondering if he could scale it. 'Nah. I don't have enough 'Alvin' in me. Besides, I'm not sure if I could even get down from there without hurting myself if I even managed to climb it in the first place. Besides, there could be more guards that I still haven't seen, or maybe even some guard dogs. The whole place looks like it's trying to stay extravagant without having any real security comforts.'

He hemmed and hawed for a bit, wondering about his next move. He could already feel himself starting to lose his hard-earned confidence and bravado in coming here; maybe he should just turn tail and go back home. He turned stiffly to make do on what his common sense was telling him, intent to just go home. As he did, however, he took notice of a street-side beggar close by, begging for change. He looked fairly strong in body but addled in mind; most likely, he had abused drugs more often than not to get to his decadent state.

That was when he got an idea.

"Hey, buddy!" Simon called somewhat awkwardly to the beggar who looked up in response to his call. "Want to make an easy fifteen dollars?"

…

…

…

Simon grinned to himself as he walked brazenly through the front gate as if he owned the massive property. He already had his phone at the ready, already needing only a single tap to start recording. He regarded his own phone with passing interest; he had no means of being easily tracked or accessed by the mystery hacker but the more he thought about it, he realized that the mansion was exactly the same. The mansion and his phone, that is. Was Ravin' Raven actually working with the hacker? Or was the rapper afraid of the hacker?

He dared not to let his mind run away with him. He didn't know how long the distraction he had incited would last. His back-pocket was now fifteen dollars lighter, but the hopeless junkie he had paid off had climbed the wall and gallivanted across Ravin' Raven's lawn as if he had lost his mind. He probably lost his mind a long time ago, but that hardly mattered as the two gate guards had long left their responsibility unchecked to go after the junkie, and even guards Simon had missed seeing had taken up the pursuit. The man was certainly working for his pay, no doubt because he was desperate for it to purchase his next fix. Money, no matter how small, was good enough encouragement and the man was (literally) giving them a run for his money.

Simon stole through the shaded area of the mansion's grounds, hoping to conceal himself better until he got to a door, hoping to just find an easy way inside the extravagant house. He was disappointed at first to find that the side doors were locked, but before he could fully turn away from the house, he heard a loud television suddenly blare what sounded like action program. Judging from the volume, Simon recognized that it was probably a home theatre setup.

"Well, at least I know he uses electricity," Simon mumbled. He crouched-walked through the bushes that grew along the side of the house under windows. More than once, a branch snagged on his sweater-shirt for his pains to remain hidden should anyone chance by, but it eventually paid off when he made it to the window where he could hear the television the loudest. By simple logic, this meant that he had reached the room where someone must likely be. He ever-so-slightly raised his head and peaked through the glass of the closed window and saw an expansive television room with three or four occupants, all seated in easy chairs watching the television that was the size of a wall. While Simon didn't have a great angle to see all of what was on the television, he had the advantage of being in their blindspots. He could see them and as a plus, he could see them well and be prepared to duck his head should they turn around.

Not that they seemed very receptive in the first place. Judging from the smoke that rose from thick wadded rolls of what appeared to be marijuana, hookah chalices and spilled bottles of liquor, they were all stoned. Simon was no stranger to seeing the effects of the drug abuse in them; he supposed it was because he had read all about it.

"I swear, doesn't Vincent have cable?" One of them fumed. "F*ck, man! It's like he should have been born back in the seventies or eighties or something."

"Quit complaining. You should be more grateful that he lets you live here after your ma done kicked you out." The accent sounded southern. "I don't know why he entertains the likes of you for."

"Because I'm black, you f*ckin' racist? Don't think I don't know about that confederacy flag you have upstairs." Number one grumbled.

"I told you a hundre' times. It was a red and blue shirt that you saw, you cunt-rag. What I meant is that you hardly contribute around here. All you do is smoke, eat, sleep and cuss about nothing's on that you can watch."

"It's true!" Number one exclaimed. "Besides, I took care of that one girl…aw shit…I think…some kinda purple wearing girl."

"All you did was wreck Vincent's brand new BMW driving through some shit alleyway. If you weren't his cousin, he would've shot you between the eyes already." Number three chastised. "With the amount of dents that thing had, he might as well have to start over with a whole f*cking new car. You drove like a goddamn pisspot."

Simon's eyes widened. They were talking about Jeanette! Trying not to let his emotions get the better of him, he pulled up his phone and started video-recording the trio at the window, pressing the lens of the phone right against the window to ensure that there would be video clarity. 'C'mon, say something like that again, and be specific!'

"Hey man, take that DvD out. I'm tired of seeing that damn car-crash shit from last year over and over. Put in something else. But make sure you don't scratch it or Vincent'll will give you cement shoes to wear the next time you go for a swim."

"I can't bother to get up. Just leave it in. Besides, what's so special about that DvD anyways? It's like ten minutes long or something. It isn't even in a high-def." Number one found the remote close by next to a ganja blunt and picked it up. "Here's the remote." He changed the station to what should be normal television programming, but instead, the station snapped to a somewhat poor-quality view of…what was that? Someone in a bed, maybe? And…a visitor who sat beside them?

" _What's with all that ruckus upstairs?"_ One voice asked softly. Simon's jaw dropped when he heard that. Was that…Eleanor?!

" _I dunno."_ This sounded like Theodore! _"Do you want me to go ask the people up there to quiet down?"_

" _That's really considerate of you, Theodore, but you don't really have a commanding presence. It'd be better if you just called the receptionist and have them tell the people to be quieter-"_

The television shut off. "What the hell is with this shit, man! Every time, Raven has this kid's show crap going on!" Number one said as he placed the remote back down.

"That's closed circuit television, dumbass," number three said in a reminding tone. "We gotta keep watching rat singers to see if they're up to something. You think you get to just sit around doing nothing? We gotta keep watchin' em to make sure we stay one step ahead of them. It doesn't look like they feel like bugging out of Miami yet. Turn the TV back on."

Number one obliged, but changed the channel. "Huh. There's the purple one again. She's on her phone. Maybe she's tweeting or some shit like that. Or researching. She looks like the brainy type, you know? With those glasses of hers."

Simon gritted his teeth. 'So they bugged our suites and have cameras set up in there? They were watching us the whole time? Watching Jeanette and me?' He tried to console himself that he was getting some damning evidence, but he wanted even more. Something that showed a conspiracy to commit murder, not just a violation of privacy.

The station changed again. "I don't see the blue one. I don't see the red one or the pink one either."

'We have names, you…you…imbecile.' Simon smoldered in his mind.

"Well, rewind it a bit. See if we missed anything while we weren't watching them." Number three requested. Number one obliged him. "Whoa, whoa. They were in the closet. Damn. We should've had the hacker put a camera in _there_ , huh?"

"They're kids, you sick f*ck." Number one said.

"Man, whatever. Porn is porn. Besides, they're probably just kissing or something, nothing serious," the second one muttered. "Man, just shut it off. Ain't nothing worth watching." The television was shut off at last. "Okay, now pass the chalice."

They had appeared to be settling into a drug-induced silence. Simon realized that his opportunity had dimmed and flickered out. He hadn't gotten anything extremely substantial, but it would have to do. He was about to put his phone back into his pocket, but was deterred by a frightening chamber click he heard behind him. Tentatively turning his head, his heart fell when he stared into the business end of a handgun, held in the hands of the burliest man he had ever seen.

"Well, well, well," Lamar said lowly. "If it isn't the _smart one_ …guess you're not that smart to wander into our own backyard, now are you?"

* * *

 **And…scene.**

 **Well, I guess you all just found out the meaning of Valerie's call-sign.  
(1 want 2 ****セーブ** **the 6)  
(I want to SAVE the six)**

 **It's been a bit of a personal hell to be holding on to that secret for a long time. Oh well. Anyway, take care, and review to tell me your thoughts. (Glances at desktop clock.)**

 **(23:05)**

 **Oh, and goodnight.**

 **Valete omnes,**

 **MRAY 4TW.**


	30. Chapter 30 (Revelation: Third Expo)

**AATC: Territory**

 **I'm back. After some panicking and nail-biting on how to go about writing this, let me show you what've I've got for you. Hope you enjoy.**

 **30.**

The room was quiet, save for their breathing. Alvin, Brittany and Dave met each other's eyes. They all waited; Dave knew that they were waiting on his decision. It was his call to make.

It was hard. Reluctantly, he hit the 'End' button and hung up the phone. "Valerie…"

The woman who was bound and tied on the ground did not answer.

"You have a lot to answer for." As soon as the words fell from his father's mouth, Alvin looked up, dumbfounded.

"What? Really? Oh, come on, Dave, why'd you hang up the phone on the police?! If only you knew what she's done!" Alvin hinted to the woman's hacking, not to mention her own incrimination whilst inside Brittany's room.

"What _have_ I done?" Valerie asked quietly. Her voice carried through the room as loud as if she had shouted. She didn't add any more; she paid quite a bit more attention to her coffee burns. She ached to soothe her face with her own hands, although the pain from the scorching was already fading. She had some relief that they had canceled the call to the police…or was it postponement? She had no idea which, and she hated not knowing. If it was merely delay and that they would still call the police on her anyhow, then she'd hate that even more.

"I remember…" Brittany muttered lowly. Alvin turned his head to face her, keeping his weight squared on Valerie's back; he wasn't giving her any quarter, no matter what. "I thought they were nightmares. It happened more than once." She looked down at the redhead who was still trussed up with her own laptop power-cable. "You would come into our room, and inject me. With _something_. I don't know what." She knelt down and grabbed the woman's head to force her to look her in the eyes. "What did you inject me with?!"

"A sedative. Something to help you to sleep."

It was hard to figure out which was the most surprising: the woman's easy answer, the fact that she even responded at all or even the nature of the drug. "What? A sedative? Why?!"

"I just said it. Something to make you sleep."

"But why sedate her in the first place? She's not an insomniac, Valerie. Besides, you had no business being in their room, much less injecting her with any kind of drugs-" It was at this point in which Valerie had started tuning out Dave. She didn't want a lecture or a scolding from anyone; she was too old for something like that, anyway. Not to mention, there were _other_ more important things that had to be attended to.

"I used the city cameras and I saw that Simon went out to Ravin' Raven's mansion," the hacker announced with some urgency. "To put it simply, he's gone off into the lion's den."

There was a stunned silence, one that took lasted a while. Regardless of the fact that Valerie had become something of an enemy in his eyes, he could ascertain that she was telling the truth. No matter if he didn't believe her, he'd still check their own suite to check if he really wasn't there. Dave broke it the quiet. "What? Simon's where?"

"He's at Vincent's house." Valerie spoke more clearly. "He's probably trying to get evidence, like you guessed he would. Best of luck to him; I still can't touch Ravin' Raven. He's too careful. I guess being around someone like me made him excessively paranoid."

"Simon's at the house of the guy who's out to kill us?" Alvin asked in shock. "And he's supposed to be the smartest one of us? We gotta go help him!" He made as if to get up off of the woman, before Dave stopped him. "But Dave, we-"

"No." The most powerful word in the man's vocabulary was dropped. "You're staying here. Alvin, Brittany…" He turned to the chipettes as well. "You're not going there. **I** **am**."

"But-"

"But nothing, Alvin! You're staying here! I swear, if you've never listened to me before, you will now! Alvin Seville, Brittany Miller, you will stay in this room and keep _her_ ," he pointed at the woman on the floor, "keep her tied up and watch her. By the time I come back, I'll figure out what to do with her." He looked down at the redhead. "You're not off the hook yet."

"Well then, Mr. Rambo," Valerie asked sarcastically. "What's your plan?"

Dave ignored the jibe. "I'm going to go get my son."

There. It had been said. They all understood everything, both said and unsaid. But Valerie couldn't let it go. While she was still more-or-less some kind of prisoner, that didn't mean she had no more empathy to her captors. "Are you serious? Didn't you hear a word that I've said? The police-…they're not dirty cops that help him; he just knows their dirty secrets that forces them to look the other way whenever he feels to get something done illegally. If the cops won't help you, all you'll be doing is walking straight into a deathtrap." To her surprise, the man turned his back as if he didn't care. "Dave! Don't just walk away! I can help!"

"A lot of help you've been," the man remarked plainly as he went through the door. Without even looking around, he called backwards to his red son. "Alvin…" The man paused. "Without me here, you're the oldest." He didn't say anymore after that, and kept walking; Alvin interpreted the man's words with no difficulty. It would have made him feel more responsible and proud, if it hadn't been a somber topic.

"So…what, I'm in charge?" Alvin asked himself quietly. He looked down at the woman beneath him, still squirming beneath his weight every now and again, then to Brittany who was breathing irregularly from the strain of the moment and after that, stared at the mess that the scuffle had made of the room. 'Dave's not even gone yet, and I don't even know what to do…' He didn't even move from his spot, suddenly having the irrational fear that everything was going to fall apart the second he tried to take charge of the situation. Trying to take his mind off it, he turned to Brittany. "Hey, are you all right? Are you hurt anywhere?"

"I'm okay." Brittany leaned back while squatting to seat herself on her butt beside him, sitting on the carpeted floor. "I just…it's kinda hard to find out after all this time…finding out that one of the people out to get us having been living right under our noses."

Valerie's eyebrow twitched, despite herself. "I'm still here, you know."

"Well, no one asked you!"

"Of course you didn't." Valerie sighed deeply. "Everyone else keeps moaning about this problem, groaning about that pain or just bitching to me about how life's screwed them over. Not one of you have ever asked me about how I felt. They just see and think 'hey, it's perfect Valerie', she's great and well off. Nothing wrong by her, right?"

"Now that I think about it," Alvin started to say, as if he was going to agree with her, but he instead turned it back on her. "Now that I think about it, you probably would have told us lies, since you've been like this from the start."

Valerie chuckled as she angled her head to one side. "Ouch. I'm many things, but I'm no liar. The only thing I've ever lied to you about…" She trailed off and spoke lowly, so quietly that Alvin had to lean forward to hear her. Her plan came together, and Valerie leapt at her chance.

Quickly lifting her right shoulder and tucking in her left, she easily tipped the now unbalanced 'munk off of her upper back. Ignoring his cry of surprise, she swiftly leaned up and got up back to her feet. Brittany gawked at how easily Alvin was thrown off before she turned to him, cross. "Damn it, Alvin! You had **one** job!"

"Give me a break!" Alvin picked up himself as fast as he could to get back on the defensive. "At least she's still tied up!" His eyes met Valerie's. "Well, what're you gonna do about that, huh? You need your arms to swing if you're going to be able to even run away. You can't run-"

"I'm not running," the woman said calmly. To their shock, the woman merely took a seat on the couch. "I just had to get up. The way you were sitting on my shoulders was cutting off my blood circulation. In fact-" The woman fidgeted and half-turned to them. "Would you mind untying me? Need my hands, you know."

"…"

"Please?" She took their silence as a no. That was unsurprising. "My only lie is that I'm not actually a redhead."

Despite herself, Brittany answered, albeit nastily. "And this concerns us why?" Alvin held up an arm to her, realization was written all over his face. "What is it, Alvin?"

"…" The Seville smiled strangely, as if he was bursting with a secret he wanted to tell. "Simon…was _wrong_! Correlation **can** be _causation_!"

"Alvin…umm…"

"Yeah, Brittany?" He turned to the chipette. "What is it?"

"Could you start making sense? Never too late to start."

Alvin sighed. "Brittany, if I went out into the street wearing Simon's blue sweater-shirt and glasses, do you think people would recognize me?"

"Make sense!"

Alvin rolled his eyes. "Just think about it! She basically just told us that she's been in disguise. She's hiding from Ravin' Raven by being someone she's not. Whatever she looked like before, she doesn't look that way right now. That's proof that she's really not in cahoots with him!"

"It'll take more than just changing a hair-color…wait, what am I even saying?" Brittany slapped her forehead. "After what she's done, are you standing up for her?" The girl was in disbelief. "I thought you were on my side-"

"And I am! Don't you forget it!" Alvin insisted. "But you need to stop and think about this!"

"There's nothing to think about!" Brittany retorted. "You're either with us…" She then pointed at Valerie, "or against us!"

"I'm on our side," Alvin said. "And so is Valerie. It all just came to me! I mean, we just have to ask the right question. Ask her why she'd sedate you!"

Brittany gave him a look that questioned his sanity. "Are you serious? How can there be a good reason for-"

"Why don't you ask her?" Alvin was sure that he was right. It could be said that he was tired of being made out to be ignorant. He had what could be called a 'gut feeling'. It wasn't really what he wanted; he didn't want to trust Valerie, but nothing came to mind when he tried to think of all the woman had done wrong. Granted, she'd have to testify about other things, but when the woman said that she was using sedation on Brittany, he couldn't help but wonder why. "Ask her why she's been using sedation on you."

With a huff, Brittany swiveled angrily to the woman who had been coolly sitting and listening them argue. "All right, fine! Why were you sedating me?! Do I look like I wanted any sort of crap like that?"

"I could see the bags under your eyes, ever since I saw you," the woman answered. "Then I tried to find out what could have been causing it. You were having nightmares. I merely gave you something to make you sleep without dreams nearly every night, but more than once you caught me in the act."

"WHAT?!" Brittany exploded. "But I-"

"And then you and Alvin slept in your bed that one night together. It was on the night of the concert when Alvin tossed you and did that reckless stunt. He nearly caught me too, but instead, he sang to you. Whoop-de-doo, apparently, it was a magic cure." The woman's tone was serious, although there was a trace of a smile when she gave her answer.

"…" Alvin thought long and hard. "The door was unlocked. And I heard what sounded like someone shifting in there. You know, like popping knees. Those kinds of sounds."

"I always lock the door before going to bed. I thought…wait, now that I think about it…" The chipettes turned to Alvin. "I locked it on that night too, but Alvin said it was locked. And if Valerie got in there before him…" Brittany muttered the question mostly to herself, "How did she get in if I locked it?"

"Key-card door." Valerie said matter-of-factly. "You know… _electronic_?" Her tone suggested the obvious.

"Right. Hacker." Brittany realized, now sheepish. But that didn't bleach the seriousness from the situation. "But you still poisoned Eleanor-"

"We don't have time for this. We can play either continue to play 'Interrogation', or you can let me do what I do best."

"And that is…"

"Hacking." Was all the woman would say.

Brittany pulled Alvin aside, for more privacy. "Alvin…I'm not going to lie to you. I still don't trust her."

"Well, I don't trust her either," Alvin whispered. "But in a situation like this, we don't exactly have a lot of friends in Miami."

"What if she's just lying because she's afraid of getting arrested?" Brittany asked knowingly. "Did you think of _that_?" Alvin sighed deeply when he heard her theory. That, in particular, was actually a frightening scenario to entertain. Especially since it was a possibility.

"That's true. But-" Alvin started to say, but Brittany silenced him by hugging him fiercely.

"Alvin. I know that you're looking out for us. I'm sorry for pushing my wants on you. You're not on my side. I'm not on your side. We're on _our_ side. But you heard Dave. You're the oldest."

"Only by a few months," Alvin said knowingly. "Maybe he should've left you in charge. Simon once said that girls mature faster, so doesn't that mean that you're older than me?"

"This is serious, Alvin!" Brittany whispered. "Look. I'll respect any decision you make. The chipette pointed at the woman, "what are we going to do with her? Keep her tied up? Lock her in one room? Let her go?"

"But Dave said to watch her and keep her tied up-"

"Well, screw Dave!" Brittany fumed. "The fact that he brought us out here to Miami in the first place shows that he doesn't have a good head on his shoulders!"

"And you expect me to do better?" Alvin asked, taken aback.

"I don't _expect_ you to do better. I **know** you can do better."

Alvin heard. He heard all of these things. Slowly turning to face Valerie, he made up his mind.

 **=X=X=**

Vincent eased his car out of the traffic with a level of practice that seemed well beyond his years. He was only in his early thirties, but still looked like he was just entering his twenties.

"Heh. I age like Pharell Williams," the rap-metal singer muttered to himself, before he laughed. "Black don't crack." He was about to laugh at his own joke before he saw his reflection in his driving mirror.

There were a few gray hairs, when previously there had been none to speak of.

With a sigh riddled with anger, he realized that he was wrong, more or less. _He_ was cracking. Everywhere he looked, things were changing. He was losing control; more and more, Miami was consumed with 'Chipmunk  & Chipette' fever. Shops were showing flyers with the 'C & C' symbol, banners showing the band of six, television advertisements every few minutes about their upcoming concert; their final and biggest.

He was losing it. His control over Miami was fleeting and at the way things were going, his sanity might be soon to follow. He knew that there was nothing wrong with what he was doing. He was protecting what was his. His home.

For years, the United States of America had been stricken with war-…a war between musicians. It was fought both onstage, backstage, and in the streets. Some called it the 'East-Coast versus West-Coast'. Many people called it that, and even more thought that it was only between rap artistes. But it had been more than that. Ever since Notorious B.I.G. got shot, (aka Biggie Smalls) **(1)** the war had entered full swing and everyone got paranoid. It got exceedingly difficult to make a career in music anywhere, and even harder to be successful.

As far as Ravin' Raven knew, he had fought to get here. But it was on his luckiest break that things finally got together. To control someone…

It didn't have to be money. That was too expensive.  
It didn't have to be with weapons. Some people couldn't be rattled.  
It didn't have to be with simple authority. Mutiny was an often occurrence.

It was all about blackmail. To control only one person with the knowledge and proof of their terrible mistakes…then use that person to control nearly everyone else. It was like controlling God.

Valerie.

He once 'Googled' the name, getting definitions such as 'strong woman'. **(2)** Guess he was right. He was controlling God. Controlling her with blackmail.

Everyone had something to hide. But taking steps to know other people's business and making sure that his own was untouchable, he was easily the strongest person in the city.

Then along came the 'C & C' band.

His own name was fading. The very thought that his blood pressure spike dangerously. The thought that everything would soon be taken care of was the only thing that calmed him. He was coming home earlier than usual; apparently, Lamar had called him while he was recording and told him to come home. Something about a 'surprise'.

Yet, when he pulled up into the extensive driveway that would lead up to the gated entrance to his home, he had not expected to see _that man_ there.

Vincent saw the man turn to face him and his car as he drove up slowly, coming to a standstill. The rap-metal singer ground his teeth; the man's audacity was stifling. But appearances were everything, especially in a career like his; the singer quickly put on a large smile, however false, and got out of his BMW. He could see the recognition in the man's eyes as he turned to face him. Good. That meant that he knew that he was in trouble. "Hey, Dave! What's happening, huh?" He offered his hand to shake. "Good to see you!"

Dave looked him over twice, then at the proffered hand, obviously stuck on whether to shake the man's hand or not. His manners got the better of him, making him ready to shake the man's hand. He stopped himself at the last second, retracting his own arm and left Ravin' Raven's hand left hanging, left untouched. "Stow the crap, Ravin' Raven. I'm here for my son. Nothing more, nothing less."

Vincent didn't show his annoyance, but it did leak into his speech. "Your…what? You have a son?"

"You know what I mean!"

The singer shook his head. "No. I don't. You're not even married, as far as I know. The only thing to your name is that you're a producer to three r-" He nearly slipped up and called them 'rats', struggling to remember what they were called. "The Chipmunks. They're your family?"

"They're my children!" Dave yelled at the top of his lungs. "And I want my son!"

Ravin' Raven pretended to check his pockets, then under his shoe-bottoms. "Do I **look** like I got him?" His tone was sarcastic. "Yo, T-bone!" He called to the guard.

"Yes, Mr. Raven, sir?"

"Enough with the formalities. Park the car." He pointed at his car behind him. The gate guard opened the gate to get to the car. After being handed the keys, he entered the vehicle and drove inside, leaving the two men to continue their hashing outside. "Look Dave. You've got a lot of nerve coming to my home and slinging accusations-"

"Well, here's this for an accusation?" Dave's tone became grave. "You've been persecuting us from day one, and you haven't left us a moment's peace! So why don't you just back off and leave me and my family _alone_ , before I let the police know-"

"About what? I haven't done anything wrong. Absoloutely nothing." Ravin' Raven turned his back and started walking through his gate. It was a bit of distance from the gate to the actual mansion, but he did the walk daily; it was a matter of getting some sort of exercise on a daily basis . What he hadn't expected, however, was Dave walking after him; the music producer was like a mosquito, nagging in his ear. "Dave, if a man came into your house and started f*cking your woman, would you let him?"

Expletives aside, Dave replied, despite the feeling that he was wandering into a set-up. "No. But I want my son!"

Vincent ignored the man's exclamation. "Well, here you are. You came into my hometown, and you started f*cking my woman. Music is my woman. The fans are my woman. Money is my woman. And get this…" He stopped walking and turned to face Dave. "I'm not going to let you. So you can take your disappointments, your chipmunks or rats or whatever the f*ck they are, and just go back home. You spit on my offer way back when, back when I proposed that we sing together."

"I know what kind of man you are, what you've done! That's why I refused. The laws-"

"Then you must have lots of proof that I'm a reasonable man, and reasonable men protect what belongs to them." Vincent took out a closed penknife and tossed it to Dave. "Think fast…!"

Dave awkwardly caught the object, not knowing what it was. "What is this?"

"That's the knife I use to cut my weed when I need to mellow," Vincent said matter-of-factly. "And dig this. I know the law. You know which law is my favorite? Being able to kill someone if they trespass on your territory, making you feel threatened." Vincent reached behind himself and pulled out his high-capacity Glock out of his waist-band. "And I feel threatened seeing you in Miami. I feel threatened seeing you on my land with that knife. I feel threatened…" He removed the safety and pointed the gun at Dave, whose eyes widened at the sight of the weapon. "I feel threatened seeing you in my territory. I shoot you, I plead self-defense, and the cops will pick that knife up from you and call it a day. How's that for a law?"

Silence.

"So that's how it is. Now get the f*ck outta my yard." Vincent's tone was dangerous. He aimed it right at the man's head. " _ **Now**_."

Dave stumbled backwards, dropping the knife. Before he could go any further, he heard a call; it sounded like his name. "Hmm?"

Vincent had the same expression as he looked around. "…The hell…?" He glanced over, far to where his front door was, only to see Lamar and beside him, one of the chipmunks. "The blue one," Vincent muttered. " _That's_ the surprise Lamar was talking about? Goddamn. Wait a minute…" He turned his attention back to Dave. "How did you know he was here?"

"Your little helper, Valerie told me, you psychopath…!" Dave hissed. "And see there? That's my son!" He stood tall, some courage working its way into his system. "I want him back!"

"Wait…Valerie told you?" The rap-metal singer was taken aback. "I f*ckin knew it! She did turn on me!" 'Hmm…wait. If she told Dave, coupled with the fact that he knew her name, that means that she's a turncoat. She'd know that I was onto her if she sent Dave here, not to mention he knows that she's been helping me. Well, you damn weasel, I've got you cornered now…no, you'll just run away. I have to make sure you come to me, in a place and situation you can't escape, even if you wanted to. Just you wait.' "Well, Dave. Seems you're not leaving. How about I send you on your way with your son in a suitcase? A nice blue one to match your son? One with wheels, would you like that? Make it easier for you to cart him out?" He turned to his bodyguard. "Lamar, shoot him."

"NO!" Dave bellowed, as he watched the burly man point his own gun at his son's head. "No!" before Lamar could do the deed, Vincent shouted to stop the man, before returning his attention to the man who looked like he was about to have a mini heart-attack.

"So…all right…get gone." Vincent tilted his gun down, but didn't re-engage the safety. "I'm a _reasonable_ man. I'll take good care of your son. I won't kill him. As a matter-of-fact, I'll let him go on condition."

"What kind of condition?" Dave couldn't believe he was entertaining this. But what other choice did he have?

"If he behaves himself, he gets to stay healthy. If Valerie comes to pay me a visit, your rat son gets to walk free, and you and your family cut your summer vacation short and go back to whichever holes you crawled out of."

"What if Valerie doesn't come?" Dave asked, already fearing the answer.

"Well, I won't be gentle with his care, not to mention, your little pack of rats is going to be short a member."

* * *

 **Lengthy Author's Notes: End Of Expositions**

 **1 – 'Biggie Smalls' death.  
Date: March 9, 1997.  
(Real Name: Christopher Wallace)  
[News: On March 5, he gave a radio interview with 'The Dog House' on KYLD in San Francisco. In the interview, he stated that he had hired security because he feared for his safety, not just because of the ongoing East Coast–West Coast feud and the murder of 'Tupac Shakur' 6 months prior, but because of his role as a high-profile celebrity in general. He was shot to death four days later while waiting at a **_**stop sign**_ **after leaving a** _ **party**_ **. ]**

 **-This particular bit of a tragedy has been the reason why I started this fic. It's not just a writing fancy, but I wanted to show that there** _ **is**_ **a war, and we're all fighting it, simply by choosing who we listen to. The most dangerous people in this war of music, are the musicians with the largest egos and the most paranoia…being paranoid that their relativity and fame is being sought by other singers in the industry. No one else ever brought this up in the AATC fandom as far as I could see, so I decided to do one myself. What if the chipmunks started on one coast, would the musicians on the opposite coast welcome them? The chipmunks, while cute for romance, have yet to have any real and existing problems stacked against them in any sort of fiction, whether it be canon, or made by fans.**

 **2 – Valerie's name.  
This is why I chose her name to be Valerie:  
In English, the meaning of the name Valerie is: strong, valiant and brave.  
So her name is not just a coincidence. In fact, nothing about this story is just a coincidence. It's all be planned to every last detail.**

 **That's that.**

 **-On the matter of Vincent, I think I did a good job of making Vincent sound like a 'black man'. He has the typical lingo of an African-American. Furthermore, I also gave him the logical reasoning of said ethnicity and straightforward insults that he could be prone to make. I'm not saying that black people are prone to call the chipmunks 'rats', but we (yes, I'm dark-skinned), can be down-to-earth with simple insults. Besides, I love our favorite characters too, just like the rest of you. It's proof enough that I'm here writing a fanfiction about them.**

 **-I couldn't see anything else to add to this chapter. It's already at thirty, so yeah, the fic will soon come to an end. I don't intend to drag this out for the rest of our lives. I should be done in another ten chapters, a little more or less, so expect some jumps in the story. I won't leave any plot holes, don't worry. But the best is yet to come. Trust me…would I lie to you?**

 **Valete omnes,**

 **MRAY 4TW.**

 **P.S.: I'm going to be honest…I thought the fic would have been done by now. I, for goodness sakes, cannot keep to my limits! I actually hope I can finish this within FIFTEEN chapters…I've got other AATC fic ideas that need to be put out there!**

 **Take care.**


	31. Chapter 31

**AATC: Territory**

 **(Flips through books on Cuban Interrogation methods before tossing it aside.) Alright, enough of that! It's MRAY 4TW, and I'm back. I've been busy last week by letting everyone in the fandom know I've returned by posting one-shots and such, and I'm making an update here. Geez, being without a functional computer is horrifying. I was one day away from making up my mind to going back to internet cafés to type.**

 **So, a bit of a recap:**

 **-They found out Valerie is the Hacker.  
-Ravin' Raven found out that Valerie's been thwarting his attempts at killing the 'munks and 'ettes.  
-Simon is Ravin' Raven's prisoner and is being used as a bargaining chip for Valerie to give herself up to him.**

 **I guess that's that.**

 **Disclaimer: In case you all forgot, I still don't own Alvin and the Chipmunks. I don't own their characters, personalities, ideas, etc. All of that belongs to the Bagdasarians and J. Karman, I believe.**

 **However, I own mine. In what is presented,** _ **I own the fic's unique personalities, ideas, original characters, and plots.**_

 **31.**

It was a frazzled driver that pulled his van into a parking spot, sighing deeply as he did so. As he cut the engine, he felt the gravity of the situation crash over him, and it kept getting heavier. He was housing a criminal, a rap-metal singer was using his son as collateral, and he nearly died not even fifteen minutes ago from being threatened to be shot in the head.

And that was only the beginning.

'One thing at a time, Dave,' the driver thought to himself as he unbuckled his seatbelt. "What to do first…"

All things considered, he reasoned, he didn't have many options. First, he wanted his son back! Simon…? In the clutches of that man?! There wasn't a snowball's chance in hell of Dave allowing that to continue. As far as he could see, there were two options for that: call the cops (it was their job, right?) or find some way to turn over Valerie to Ravin' Raven. He had no guarantees that either option would work, that was bad enough. What was worse, Vincent had thoroughly threatened him saying that if he stuck around, it wouldn't be good for his health. That was putting it mildly.

If he were to talk to Valerie, what could convince her to go to Vincent, who obviously sounded upset that she possibly double-crossed him? What were the odds of Vincent actually releasing Simon back to Dave when he got what he wanted? Dave'd seen too many gangster movies of things like that happening; call him a movie buff, but he really had no assurance that Vincent would hold up his end of the deal.

But with the police…hmm…perhaps Valerie was lying about them. How could the rap-metal singer control the law? While a frightening possibility, what did he truly have to lose if he called them? Certainly, not all of the police officers could be controlled by the singer, but if the leaders were corrupted, then the underlings would steer in the wrong direction.

Dave took out his phone and dialed a number.

 **=X=X=**

Alvin looked up to Valerie. Past tense, of course. Sure, he had admired her for her quiet strength but now, he was _afraid_ of it. What else was there to this woman that he didn't know? He glanced to Brittany discretely, but she noticed nonetheless, smiling back at him despite their current situation. For that, for that one thing, he was glad. They've had a rocky friendship, but Alvin could feel that they were bonding over their trials and tribulations, becoming closer than they've ever had before.

She trusted him completely. She would respect any decision he made.

But which decision to make?

His father was a stern man whenever he had to be. And he had strict orders to keep this woman bound and secured. A prisoner, more or less. But the more he thought about it, the more the red chipmunk became convinced that Valerie was…more or less…a victim. But she was also a dangerous liability, and he still had no way of proving her statements as the truth, and no way of knowing if they were lies.

"How long have you been with us?"

"Since Virginia."

Alvin nodded. That had been a pointless question. But the follow-up was even more important. "Before or after Ravin' Raven showed up?"

Alvin noticed that the woman paled a bit before she shook her head. "Just before. I knew he was coming."

Even Alvin could tell that something was wrong. This was a cool room that they were in, not to mention that Valerie was one to keep her temperament in check. But there was a crack in her façade, as a single bead of sweat sprouted on her brow-line. Alvin didn't comment on it, but he made a shot in the dark. He walked around the woman and began loosening her from her bonds. It was knotted tight; Brittany had done her job thoroughly, the chipmunk thought.

"You sure, Alvin?" The chipette asked.

"Yeah. I'm sure. Besides, we're going to need a lot of help. I've been getting bad vibes the whole time, and we still need help, a whole lot of help. Simon's in trouble." Alvin felt the urge to slap himself. "Dave, a harmless music producer, just went out to take on some crazy rap-metal singer with his bare hands. And I think we'd be better off if Valerie could help us out." Alvin refrained from untying the last knot in the power cables that still kept the woman bound. "Isn't that right?"

"Yeah, yeah, bad cop," Valerie mumbled. "Just make sure you don't put any shorts in my power cord. If I don't have my laptop in ship-shape, then it's useless. We'll be far better off if that doesn't happen."

"I'm not untying you until you promise to help bring Simon back!"

"I was already trying to do that before you crazy kids showed up and started harassing me! You're lucky I couldn't go to the police to file a harassment suit!" Valerie exclaimed in impatience.

Alvin didn't have much time for the theatrics. He tugged at the knot and untied it; scarcely was the woman free before she was standing upright, trying to rub her wrists to help with her blood circulation. With that done, she touched her face tenderly and winced in pain. "Ow! Damn coffee burns!"

Brittany flinched when she heard the woman's cry. "'Ow' is right. Hot coffee." She turned her attention to the first cup of coffee that Dave had set down on the coffee table with a wary eye before she turned to Valerie. "You're not going to want that, right?"

"I don't wanna see another cup of coffee for the rest of my life!" Valerie yelled before she ran into her bedroom where her laptop was, fully unfurling her power cord along the way. Before Alvin could run after her, he turned to Brittany.

"You'd better go tell the others downstairs about what's happening." Alvin looked thoughtful for a moment, and it was an expression tinged with worry. "In fact, it might be better if we were all in one place. We'd better all come up here. We can't have some of us downstairs, and the rest of us up here."

"My sister can't move from her bed, Alvin!" Brittany argued. "And I'm not going to move her to please that woman! While I respect your decision, I'm still not trusting her any further than I can throw her. And just in case you didn't notice, she's twice my size."

"Well, I need my internet bandwidth if I'm going to work, and it's only going to work in here!" The woman called from her bedroom, apparently having overheard what the singers were in dispute over. "If I can't get any internet, I can't get anything done!"

"There's internet downstairs!" Brittany fumed as she charged into the bedroom with Alvin hot on her heels. As they made it inside, they both gave a gasp as they took in the sight. It was as if they stepped out of a hotel suite and into a bedroom that was basically a computer shop thrown into a giant blender. Pieces of computer hardware were all over. Husks of system units lied abandoned in a corner. There were a few monitors on a table in the far corner, with slightly maintained system units, were still on, showing different camera feeds of key areas in the city. What's more, Brittany swore that she counted close to a half-dozen modems and after double-checking, the number turned out to be even _more_ than that.

After the shock of the scene wore off, Alvin, as usual, was the first to make a comment:

"I think we're in way over our heads."

"Nope." The lone woman in the far end of the room of the room was huddled over her laptop, furiously typing. "You're in my bedroom. I'd appreciate it if you get out, or at least don't **touch** _anything_ while you're in here. We wouldn't want you to get _electrocuted_ , now would we?" **(1)**

"Does Dave even know about this?" Brittany wondered, dumbstruck at the sight. "Doesn't he come up here?"

"He's never been in here," Valerie said shortly, wishing they'd leave. "This is basically like a safe house for me. You think Dave just so happened to choose this hotel? I dropped the suggestion."

"No doubt because of what you wanted to do!"

"Do…what?" Was Valerie's soft response.

"I still don't trust you!" Brittany blurted out. "You could cook up a whole batch of reasons to defend what you did, but it still doesn't excuse the fact that you didn't have to get involved with me, poison my little sister, and who-knows-what-else you've done that we don't know about yet!" Brittany crossed her arms in her righteous anger, suddenly feel entirely fed up with Miami. "I'm sick and tired of all this bullshit!"

In the meantime, Alvin had been taking in what the room had to offer, staring at this, observing that. For once, he heeded a warning and neglected to satisfy his curiosity by 'touching' things, but he at the very least understood why the woman didn't want to leave. "So you can't move because of your little setup you have here?"

"I can move. It's just that I work better with the 'little' setup." She placed emphasized sarcasm on the word. "Not to mention, I need a lot of internet bandwidth. To be honest, I've also bought out the other hotel rooms just so I could be guaranteed the fifteen-gigabyte bandwidth I need in here."

When she said this, Brittany's jaw dropped. She also took the moment to acknowledge the fact that Valerie had been casual about buying her an airline ticket back home. "How much money do you have-"

"None," Valerie mumbled. "I just take a couple cents, or even a dollar from bank accounts all over. Every little adds up, you know. I mean, who's going to miss that, am I right?"

"You're a thief!" Brittany exclaimed.

"What are you, the police?" Valerie mumbled, irritated. "Just let me do my work-"

"Hey, Brittany," Alvin started to say, nervousness obvious in his tone. "Maybe you should go get the others to come up here. Just tell them what's going on. It'll be safer if we were all together."

"With _her?_ " Brittany was about to question it, but she could sense that Alvin was trying to get rid of her presence. Fine. She could take a hint. "Alright. I'll go."

"Thanks."

 **=X=X=**

He had finished his call.

Dave's mind was a swirl of emotions as he walked back into the lobby. Although he felt a little better for having _done_ something, he still wished that he could've done more. The elevator he took there did nothing to help; it affected him adversely, and it made his growing migraine get worse.

The dispatcher had informed them that officers were going to swing by his (Ravin' Raven) house to 'check it out'. There wasn't much they could do without a warrant, but if it got more serious, he'd have to go to the police station himself to file the complaint. It had already been too long since he left, and he didn't want to leave Alvin and the others for too long. Consider it a mistake to even do so in the first place, in fact. But his son was growing up.

He stepped out of the elevator, already walking briskly towards Valerie's suite. He didn't knock; he just let himself in, as if he owned the place.

He saw no one.

His first act would have been to yell for Alvin, but all things considered, it would have only made his growing headache worse, disturbed other people on the floor, not to mention being unnecessary. Maybe Alvin even bustled Valerie off into the bedroom should anyone chance bye. Dave hadn't even thought of that. He silently congratulated Alvin in his head, but the last thing he expected to see as he entered the bedroom was Valerie (seated in front of her laptop in a computer junkyard) drawing an FNP .45 from underneath her working table, snapping to aim the gun at Dave in a moment of trained reflex.

"Oh, Christ!" He exclaimed. Before he could say any more, Valerie's hard eyes softened when she saw him; she quickly engaged the safety on the pistol before placing it down on the table next to her.

"Sorry, Dave. I'm sorry." She ran a hand through her hair while sighing deeply. "Don't you people know how to knock?"

"'Sorry?'?" Dave mimicked in his slightly reduced fright. "'Sorry'? You point a gun at me, and that's all you can say?!"

"Thanks," Valerie grumbled. "Thanks for startling me so I could nearly put a few holes in you."

Dave shook his head in resignation. "Wait…aren't you supposed to be tied up-…" He looked around the room, eventually spotting Alvin who was shrinking away from his gaze behind a computer. "Alvin? Did you let her go-?"

"Yeah, he let me go!" Valerie snapped. "What about Simon, huh? I could barely get to see anything from the camera on the light-post that's looking at Vincent's front gate."

Dave had many things on his mind, those that were being resolved concurrently, and those that still kept popping up in front of him. Like Alvin letting Valerie go, waiting for the police to go search Ravin' Raven's house for his son, and Valerie owning a gun?! She nearly shot him, for Pete's sake!

He tried to bring his blood pressure and nerves under control. "He's…upset." Dave folded his arms, unknowingly becoming defensive. "Vincent believes that you're no longer working for him, so he wanted you to give yourself over and he'll let Simon go."

Valerie's face paled as the blood left her face. "He…found out…" She got up from her laptop and strode over to Dave. "How'd he find that out, huh?" She whispered.

Dave didn't recoil, despite hearing the rising fear in her voice. "I only said that you told us about how he's been targeting us."

Valerie backpedaled to her bed and sat on it heavily. "Oh no." She covered her face with her hands, trying to pull herself together, before trying to continue. "Did he say anything else."

"Nothing about you," Dave stated, almost with the same vibe as a shrug. Not wanting to really look at her at present, he gazed away; he found plenty of things to divert his attention to in the room filled with 'spares and rarest' of computer parts. Alvin, on the other hand, sat beside Valerie. He noted what she had said earlier about everyone else 'bitching' about their problems to her as their listening ear, but she had no one else to really talk to about her problems. They all assumed that she was perfect, and didn't really have problems of her own. The grass is always greener on the other side, the old adage said.

"Are you going to be alright?"

"Nope." Valerie shook her head. "I'm already dead. My body just doesn't know it yet."

"What're you going to do? Are going to give yourself up so that he'll let Simon go?" Alvin asked, almost eagerly awaiting her response. While he would've wanted Simon back home safe, there was still the matter of Valerie giving the impression that it would only mean her demise. He couldn't expect anyone to do that. "If you've got a plan or anything, I can help-"

"You'll do no such thing, Alvin." Dave intoned suddenly. "No one is doing anything. I've already called the police to-"

"You called the police?!" Valerie exploded. " _Why_?!"

"They're the police, this is what they're supposed to do-"

"I can't believe it!" Valerie let her emotions get the better of her for the first time, her eyes rapidly becoming reservoirs for tears. "You actually made a bad situation even worse! How many times are you going to try to make decisions without consulting other people-"

"Oh, please! I'm supposed to be suckered for this?" Dave waved her off. "You're the criminal in all of this, in cahoots with Vincent from the start! All we wanted to do was go on a tour, was that too much to ask?"

"Well, f*ck that!" Valerie roared. "You're the one who knew what kind of hell-hole Miami was, and still dragged six innocent kids here! Don't start playing the righteous game with me, Dave! I was only trying to help them, to at least make sure they all got back home in one piece!"

"'Righteous game'?! I don't need to play that with you, Valerie! I'm the parent who's been looking out for them! You're the one who's been working with Vincent to kill us!"

"I've never!" The redhead shouted her riposte. Unbeknownst to the adults but to Alvin only, he noticed that the others of his family had finally come upstairs to regroup, but were huddled by the doorway by the curtain, eavesdropping easily and the fiery argument. But he wasn't doing anything in reaction; the red Seville was too stunned by the dispute to do or say anything.

"Oh really, Ms. Hacker? Nothing at all?" Dave asked rhetorically. But Valerie still fell to the bait.

"Oh, the parent who dragged the children into danger?! You still have no idea what the f*ck has been happening! Although I've been trying to help them without Vincent finding out, I still did a lot more to save their hides!" Valerie defended.

"Like how you poisoned Eleanor?"

"Oh?! After Theodore got targeted, I wised up and tried to make sure that I monitored everyone, I admit that! The worse thing I did was breach privacy! I kept Jeanette from getting run over by a car by telling her how to get to safety! I told Simon where to find her so that she wouldn't get lost trying to get back home! I threatened Jeanette to keep quiet about me so that she and Simon wouldn't try to find out who I was! I knew that insomnia was killing Brittany and affecting her adversely, so I was slipping her antidepressants in the day and sedatives in the night! I tried to warn Alvin and Brittany to keep Vincent's best friend from killing them! He also wanted me to set up a location for him to do a drive-by to shoot Eleanor, so I just slightly poisoned her with pesticide from the hardware store so that he'd leave her alone! I know that these are just shitty excuses, but it's better than what you've done! Absolutely **nothing**!"

"I called the police! Something that I should've and would've if you all had just told me about all these things from the start! Better late than never-"

Valerie cut him off. "You're an idiot, Dave! You're also deaf, too! I said that the police are working with him!"

Dave was about to defend himself, but just then, his phone began to ring. He turned aside from an irate Valerie and took it out, wondering if it had something to do with the upcoming concert. Good; he could use a distraction.

But the number was private.

He shrugged it off and answered anyway, hoping that Valerie wouldn't say anything else to disturb him. "Hello?"

" _Hey, hey, Dave! What's happening?"_

Vincent?!

" _Bet you wanna know why I'm calling. You see, some policemen came over to my house not too long ago. They were asking about your son. I told them 'yes', obviously. I mean, that's nothing to lie about. I also told them that he's in my living room, getting to know my crazy-ass cousin!"_ The man's tone was cordial and jovial-sounding. Despite his light tone, the man sounded positively frightening. _"They asked a few more questions, then I told them to take it up further up the chain of command. They might get fired, or they might get a nice little pay bonus. Who knows? Depends. But in any case,"_ the man's voice grew stern. _"Consider this your first and only f*ck up as far as this is concerned. My generosity has its limits. You just reduced your deadline to twenty-four hours."_

There was a click on the other side as the Rap-Metal singer hung up the phone.

* * *

 **I'm cutting it short here. I'm micromanaging content, and I realized that other stuff is better suited for another chapter. Besides, this is a transition chapter.**

 **Would you believe that my most popular fic in another fandom hasn't been updated since the end of May? You'd understand if I disappeared for a little while, won't you? (Starts taking small steps backward) Right?**

 **Right?!**

 **In any case, it's a pretty big fandom. It needs a 10k chapter, and the other story needs a 5k chapter. I might disappear for…hell, maybe a whole month before I'm back to this fandom in general. Besides, I've got to write a song for next chapter. It…feels right.**

 **Don't wait up, but I'll be back!**

 **Valete omnes,**

 **MRAY 4TW.**


	32. Chapter 32

**AATC: Territory**

 **Ah, geez. What the heck is the chapter count for today? 32? Wow, it's been a while.**

 **To** **YOU** **: MRAY's tired. But I hope you enjoy the chapter; I hope you all are. It's a part of my Universal Update, and suffice to say, it's a bit time intensive. Good thing I enjoy writing fanfiction, no? It's good to be back. In any case, leave a review on your thoughts, likes, peeves and whatnot.**

 **32.**

Simon nervously wrung his hands as he sat in the room, all by himself. He was still trying to come to grips that he was stuck in some huge prison that was in the form of Ravin' Raven's mansion. The man had been polite, sure. In fact, the only instance he saw the man get belligerent was to the cause of a pair of police officers who had shown up, searching for him. His hope had flagged, begging for rescue, but apparently, the rap-metal singer knew the law, and he knew money even better. The police left the mansion, unfortunately, without the chipmunk in tow and he couldn't be any more disappointed and worried.

"Eh… c-corrupt cops," Simon mumbled as he looked all around the room. It was fairly nondescript; it might have been a sitting room, or some sort of card-playing room. Simon guessed poker; the green-felt top that had a 'Clubs' pattern on it was the biggest clue. After searching the room for any possible way to escape it, he came to the realization that save for the air-vents far above him, the only exit was to either jump through a glass window on the second storey, or simply walk through the door. He couldn't reach the vent, even after standing on the chair _on top_ of the table, due to his short stature. Between this failure, a guarded door and the suicidal third option, it was no surprise that he was still trying to figure out a fourth option. Most of them included walking through the door. None of them promised that he'd keep his life. Besides, Vincent had a cousin downstairs and frankly put, the man had buggery on the mind. The last thing he wanted was to yet bumble into the man again; he scared the crap out of Simon. Nearly literally, even.

He was still brainstorming when the sole door suddenly opened, letting his captor inside. Ravin' Raven had a smirk on his face as he carried a small case with him; Simon watched him more carefully than the norm due to his expression and mannerisms, and felt his fear triple, then quadruple as his imagination began to run wild when it envisioned all sorts of fates he could suffer. Feeling his heart leap in his chest, he stared in relative fright as Ravin' Raven dropped the case with a bang onto the tabletop, his smirk stretching into a malicious grin. "A pleasant how-do-you-do, Simon!"

"Errm…" Simon licked his dry lips, wondering what his safest response was. "Uh… howdy?" The man beamed in response; apparently, he didn't screw up a simple greeting and got his head blown off, then having his corpse eaten by dogs. Damn… he couldn't afford to let his fear get the better of him! He knew the stakes! Keep his mouth shut unless spoken to, and soon he'd get to go back home to his family!

How many kidnappings had he ever heard about that ended happily? Zero? Thinking that, his panic-filled thoughts began to get the better of him again.

"Yeah, I guess that's good enough," the man muttered. "Say, Simon, you like games, don't you?"

Games? Where was this coming from? More importantly, where the hell was it going? Without even waiting for a response, Vincent opened up his case and began to pull out all manner of games from within it. Some of which Simon recognized immediately, such as a chessboard, a (small) Ludo board, even Scrabble. At the sight of his favorite game, Simon's suspicion spiked in the same fashion as his fear did a small nosedive, but that changed when a pistol was dropped onto the table, making the chipmunk recoil in apprehension. Vincent noticed his obvious nervousness and laughed. "Easy, that's just a leftover from Russian Roulette from last week Tuesday. It's empty."

Simon was well-learned; as such, he knew about the infamous game that involved a revolver loaded with a single bullet, where luck and chance were all that kept people from killing themselves in the hope that their opponent would expire first. "If it's e-empty n-n-now," Simon stammered, "doesn't that mean that someone-"

"Yeah, yeah. The poor bastard blew his brains out!" Vincent exclaimed with a guffaw. "But I was more upset that the guy made a mess of the place. Good thing it was a tiled floor, and not carpeting." Straightaway, Simon looked down to see that the floor of the room he was in was tiled. Did that mean that the man who got himself shot in the head sat in the very chair he was in? "But Russian Roulette really gets the blood pumping, you know. If you're interested in it-"

"No! No-no-no-no-NO!" Simon exclaimed. "No!"

"I hear ya, Si." The man's tone sounded rather amiable, but Simon knew better. This man was nothing to scoff at, neither one to be trusted. "But right now, nothing's good on television. I figured… game night?"

"Because you were w-watching us!" Simon's outburst was accusing as he recalled seeing how cameras had been planted in their suites. "You were watching us!"

"True, true," Vincent agreed. "You're a little know-it-all, aren't you? If that's the case, you should know what happens to people who know too much." Simon took the hint, and clammed up. "You gotta understand, though. It's not as if I take pleasure in the things I have to do. I'm not like some territorial dog that's pisses on a wall and growls at everything that passes by it. Think of me like… maybe a farmer that's protecting his livelihood from thieves."

"That's how you see us? As thieves?" Simon deadpanned. If one thing was certain, he hadn't lost his wit.

"No. I'm seeing you like a rival farmer that's come to plant your own crops in my fields." Vincent started setting up the chessboard with the correct pieces. "People tell me that I'm a good chess player. Since I haven't lost in a long time because most of these assholes got drugs on their mind, I figured it'd be a waste to just kill you. I hear that you're the 'smart one'."

Simon cringed when he heard this. "I don't have a choice?" He was already planning on losing, just to ensure that he didn't piss off the man, but Vincent had already foreseen the possibility of this.

"Don't even think about taking a dive to allow me to win. If I even suspect that you're losing on purpose, we're going to Russian Roulette with dice." Vincent moved a pawn forward. "Now carry on. C'mon, give me your best. Don't worry, I ain't a sore loser."

 **=X=X=**

Jeanette hadn't had a wink of sleep since this nightmare had begun. While she could be rational, that was overruled as _irrational_ fear had taken over her psyche, threatening to drive her insane with worry for Simon. A quick glance at the clock told her that it was close to three in the morning. While she had always been one eager for bed when it was time for slumber, this time, it refused to come.

And should anything happen to Simon, she doubted that she'd ever sleep again. Never.

She had paced, devised and schemed. She hadn't the first hint or clue on how to save Simon. After hearing that the police were bought off/scared off, her second idea was to find some way of forcing Valerie (if that was her real name), to go trade herself for Simon's safe return.

But really? Who in their right mind would take a threat from her (Jeanette) seriously? What was she going to do with Valerie, make her pinkie-promise to go?

There were so many questions answered. But there was still one major question, and that kept making Jeanette rethink what she knew about Valerie.

Why would she help them?

She had no reason to, right? She didn't know them. At best, Valerie might've felt a little guilty that her boss was basically trying to kill them. She had no reason to confront the man's ire. All in all, Simon's fate looked even bleaker than it already was.

She had to do something!

Jeanette got up from where she was leaning against the wall, and tiptoed around where several others had succumbed to sleep. As she did so, she frowned deeply as she thought of how callous they were to actually fall asleep while Simon was in peril. But not her, oh no. She was going to be proactive! She was going to save Simon, even if they were going to be lax about it!

Almost as soon as she thought this, she regretted it. She knew that they were worried too. Alvin and Dave were hit pretty hard by it; Theodore was the worst off, nearly in tears. In fact, if Eleanor hadn't consoled him that they'd get Simon back, Theodore might have actually been the one to do something stupid.

Like now. Jeanette was going to do something stupid!

She carefully weaved her way through the sitting room where she, her siblings and the remaining chipmunks were (barely) dozing and crept into Valerie's bedroom. Sure enough, the woman was still there, but she was asleep, slouched over her laptop. A sudden snoring noise nearly scared Jeanette out of her skin; looking about wildly, her eyes landed on Dave, who had been sitting in a chair with his head propped up on the palm of the hand that he had braced in his lap. Jeanette stood stock-still, afraid to go any further in fear of waking any of the room's occupants. It took a while for this panic to recede enough for her to continue, but she soon resumed her sneaking.

She slowly slunk over to where Valerie was, looking around for the item of controversy that had sparked an argument earlier between the woman and Dave. As far as she knew, it would be the best way to actually 'convince' the woman to trade herself for Simon, and Jeanette, while a bit of a coward at times, had no intention of merely bluffing the woman. Fortifying her nerves for confidence, she bent carefully to look underneath the table where the woman was asleep on and easily found the what she was looking for. There it was, in all of its black polished glory, carefully sitting in a drawer case, was the gun.

…

Valerie felt a niggle of worry, far away in the realm of her troubled sleep. Internally, she was virtually begging for a few more minutes; she was that tired, for she normally got roused up at the slightest things. But something felt off about the entire state of affairs…

Her panic senses were going off like an intense alarm.

The woman's eyes snapped open; it took only a second for her blurry 'sleepy-vision' to clear up, but once it did, she was mortified to find Jeanette pointing her own gun at her face. "Holy shit, Jean!" Valerie hissed in horror. "What the _hell_ are you **doing**?!"

Jeanette held the .45 in her shaking petite hands. "Saving Simon, that's what! Now… get up… get UP!" Jeanette yelled through her teeth. Valerie got up in a hurry, knocking over her chair in her haste. This proved to be the final noise to wake Dave, but Jeanette took no notice. In fact, Valerie's main scare was that the gun might accidentally go off, due to the fact the girl's fingers were noticeably trembling, as did her hands. "You're g-g-going to go to his house right now a-a-and g-give yourself over!"

Valerie raised her hands quickly, trying to set the girl at ease. "Easy, easy!" Her eyes traveled over to Dave; upon seeing him, she tried to enlist some help. "Dave! Wipe the sleep out of your eyes and help me out here, she's gone _crazy_!"

Dave's eyes widened at the sight. "Jeanette-?! What're you doing-?!"

Jeanette ignored him, in favor of keeping her focus on Valerie. "I'm not _**crazy**_! Everyone else is! You're all just sitting around doing nothing while Simon's in trouble!" Upon seeing Valerie step forward just a smidgen, Jeanette got more nervous and nodded the weapon threateningly towards the woman, dreadfully unsure about the weapon handling. "Don't come any closer-"

"Well, what do you want me to do, huh?!" Valerie shouted. "Just nip myself off and allow Vincent to kill me?!" By now, the others had been broken from their fragile slumber and were already gathering in the room. The hacker paid them no mind, as she was still studying the crazed chipette before her for cracks and ways to get out of her current predicament. "If I just 'give myself over', you think he's going to have a welcome party for me?"

"That's between you and him! Besides, it's all your fault why this has happened! If you had just come clean about this from the start, **none** of this would've happened!"

"How the hell's that my fault?" Valerie reacted. "I've been the one saving your butts in the first place!"

"Jeanette, put the gun down!" Dave ordered, trying to use veto authority to get the chipette to listen to him. He failed spectacularly and could only watch as she started gesturing to Valerie to 'get going'. However, Valerie finally recalled a crucial fact about the weapon and decided to take action.

"Jeanette, put the gun down." Valerie dropped her arms, suddenly losing a large part of her interest in the fiasco. "Better yet, hand it over. You've caused enough of a ruckus for one night."

"I'm not done with you-!" Jeanette hardly had time to finish her sentence before Valerie struck at Jeanette's wrists with the heel of her hand while grabbing the barrel with her other hand, quickly and effectively disarming the chipette nearly faster than the blink of an eye. Even Jeanette didn't even realize what had happened until she realized that the woman was already pointing the gun back at her. "Wha..?!"

"Relax." Valerie stuck the pistol in her belt, although a bit risky, was far less dangerous than leaving it around carelessly. "The safety was on. Wish I realized that sooner, before all this thunder and lightening happened." Noting that the poor Miller seemed about ready to cry, the woman's expression softened. "And here comes the rain. Look, I forgive you for trying to shoot me and all-"

"It's not that!" Jeanette sobbed while she furiously wiped at her face, trying wipe away her tears before anyone saw them. Her mouth curled, distorting her speech and making it sound awkward. "In fact, I was ready to do anything to have Simon back… even shoot you! I just don't understand why everyone else doesn't feel the same! We can't just leave Simon like _this_!"

"Shooting Valerie has crossed my mind," Brittany mumbled, before Eleanor elbowed her silent. "Ow, Ellie! I'm just saying, is all."

"While we all want Simon back, we just can't go around aiming guns at people and shooting them, Jeanette!" Dave admonished her sternly. "That's unforgivable!"

"But it's completely understandable," Valerie added gently. "For what it's worth, I'm sorry that Simon got himself caught in a predicament like this. Look, I'm still thinking of a way to get him out _without_ sticking my neck out on the chopping block."

"Any luck with that, Valerie?" Alvin asked hopefully. The woman hesitated at his query, and not wishing to crush any prospects, decided to dodge the question.

"Let's all get some sleep. We can't function properly without it. I might get some good ideas if I actually get some sleep without people pointing guns at me."

"It was only one time," Jeanette murmured demurely. "Sorry."

"Hey, it's okay." Valerie's tone was consoling. "In fact, if anyone else got something they need to get out of their systems, just let me have it so I don't have to sleep with one eye open."

"I hate your guts!" Brittany catcalled.

"Figures," Valerie grumbled. "Of all the ungrateful… damn. Anyone else?"

"I'm gonna punch you in the gut as soon as I get better!" Eleanor hooted as she brandished a fist menacingly. "Just you wait! I haven't forgotten how you poisoned me! I'm saving it for you until after we save Simon!" This was the comment that adjourned them all; although a bit humorous, Valerie felt a wee bit afraid still.

"Fine." The redhead waited until they all left, save for Dave. "Why aren't you leaving?" The man merely shrugged, before going back to his chair. "Oh? So you're what, a security guard or something?"

"Hardly. You know, Valerie? I'm still trying to wrap my mind around all of this. I still can't believe that you were a hacker." He waved his arms to gesture to the entire room filled with various odd and ends of computers. "I still can't believe that I never caught on. But now that I think about it, you being a technician should have given me some sort of clue."

"Guess you never know when the chick you're trying to date might be a criminal." The woman sat in her chair in front of her computer. "It's called profiling."

"You? Date? Criminal?" Dave raised his eyebrow. "Don't ever place those three words in the same sentence again." The woman merely smiled to herself as if she knew a secret.

"You're forgetting that I'm a socialism expert. I have to be able to read people. But you just gave me an idea!"

"About what?" Dave sat up, suddenly excited as her tone sounded encouraging. "Did you figure out a way to save Simon?"

"Yep…" The woman's smile even reached her eyes. It was in that moment that Dave thought the already-pretty woman to be even more pleasant, despite knowing her précis of being a cyber criminal. "Profile. I'll threaten to get rid of the blackmail he has on the cops. That'll get the police to ease up and stop trying to hunt me. When that's the case, we can just tell them to check out that bastard's house again. He can't do anything to the law after that."

"Wait… so you're saying that he's a bloody criminal, and if he gives up Simon, then we're basically going to let him get away with his crimes?" Dave wasn't all that eager to get on track with the scheme. "Isn't there another way-"

"No." Valerie interrupted. "Then there's the other thing… if he doesn't let Simon go, he might just kill him, then bribe the cops. He's filthy rich. Then again, if he just wanted me and still kill everyone…" Valerie's eyes widened. "Holy shit!" The woman stood up straight in terror and anxiety. "Crap! Dave, we gotta go, now! Let's get everyone packing and ready to go!" The woman shut her laptop with a resounding smack before running off as if the room was on fire. "Hurry up!"

 **=X=X=**

Simon cursed to himself as he stared at the ambush. His King was in check, and he had nowhere to go to avoid it. He couldn't believe his eyes; it was the first time he had ever lost and to make it worse, he never thought he'd lose to a man like Vincent. The man merely scoffed. "Genius chipmunk, huh? Hardly." The man glanced at the clock on the wall, noticing that. He and Simon had been locked in the game for hours, and the rat kid kept nodding off every ten minutes. But more importantly, his subordinates were scheduled to be storming the suites that the chipmunks and chipettes were staying, not to mention Valerie's suite as well. At such an ungodly hour like four in the morning, they were all sure to be asleep. He returned his attention back to the chipmunk, who was still trying to keep his eyes open. "Isn't it past your bedtime? Bet you're dying to get to bed, huh?"

"N-not my choice of words." Simon's stammer worked its into his words.

"Whatever. There's no rest for the wicked, and the good don't need it." The rap-metal singer spoke offhandedly as if he didn't care one way or another. In a fit, he grabbed the forgotten revolver and snapped to aim the gun at Simon. He relished the terrified look in the chipmunk's eyes briefly before pulling the trigger.

 _Click._

"See? Exciting, right?" Vincent smirked dementedly at the chipmunk who began to hyperventilate in relief, before packing the weapon into the case along with the rest of the games. "Bet you're wide awake now, huh? Maybe you want to play something else? Last call."

Simon shivered as a chill crept its way along his spine and back again. "I'm g-g-g-good."

No sooner had the Seville made his response did the man's phone begin to ring. He promptly took it and answered, "hello? Yeah...? Tell me some good news. Is she dead…?" The caller on the phone began speaking in an erratic tone on the cellphone, so loud that even Simon could hear despite the distance. It didn't sound good, but Vincent's answer hadn't exactly been heartwarming either. "Wait… what?!" Ravin' Raven yelled into the phone. "Well, what do you have f*ckin' guns for?!" The man shouted at the top of his lungs, making Simon recoil in shock. "You'd better get it done, or else your ass is grass!"

 **=X=X=**

The subordinate's phone blared the irate command into his ear. "Yes sir!" He hung up the phone and shoved it into his hip pocket. "Damn it all." He turned to the rest of the group, who were already tearing the tearing the suite apart in search for the singing group and the chipette. "He wants us to go all out when we find them. He's not taking any more chances with these guys. I mean, they're just singers, right? But what I mean is how the hell am I gonna look my little girl in the eye, knowing that I shot her favorite singers? She's got this heartbreaking look, y'know?"

"Man, who gives a f*ck about your daughter? The only thing to worry about is getting caught by the cameras-"

"Cause you're a shit-for-brains idiot who should've worn his bandanna around his face like everyone ELSE!" The first man yelled back. "And if you talk shit about my daughter one more time, I'll shoot you in your ugly face!"

"Look, calm down, guys," a third man tried to placate the irate men. "Let's just do what we came here to do, get paid, and Christmas will come early this year, okay?" Just then, his phone rang; quickly removing it and recognizing the caller ID as the lookout-man downstairs, he answered it. "Yeah? What's up Todd? You see the Five-O or something?"

" _They're downstairs, man!"_ The lookout yelled into the phone. _"The bitch hacker just broke my friggin' wrist and ran off with my gun!"_

…

…

…

"What the hell's happening?!" Brittany shrieked as she ran through the parking lot with the others. "Who was that guy with the gun?!"

"One of Ravin' Raven's idiots!" Valerie huffed as she ran, the captured Glock was in her right hand and her laptop in its bag smacking her rump almost painfully with each stride. "Good thing I realized that he'd send them after us! That prick doesn't like having loose ends, and you all know too much."

"Don't you mean that they were coming after you?!" Dave shouted as he ran with Eleanor in her arms since she was still too weak to be fully mobile. "I swear, if you had just given yourself up from the start-"

"This still would've happened! If you hadn't called the cops, he wouldn't have felt threatened!" Valerie argued back. "This is your fault, not mine!"

"Girls, girls, you're both pretty!" Alvin exclaimed. "Now quit playing patty-cake and find where the van is! Dave, where'd you park it?" He looked behind him as he ran; a hundred meters or so, he could see that the gang-bangers were running out of the hotel lobby. "Holy crap, there must be a dozen of those guys!"

"Really?" Theodore chanced a glance behind him and panicked when he nearly tripped. "Oh no! There's so many!"

Valerie scoffed when she heard this. "To be honest, I thought they'd be more!" As they wove through the parking lot following Dave, she felt her heart racing. "Damn! I thought I had more time before these guys would try to kill me!" Just then, guns barked, deafening in the panic of the early morning. The shots whizzed past them like angry insects, making them yell their heads off in fright. "Find your van, Dave!"

"I'm trying!" Dave was losing his head over the entire situation; his thoughts and memories were a jumble, all done in because of his consternation. "Um… This Way?" He asked himself as he pointed in a random direction from the maze of cars they were in. They were about to run in the direction he pointed in when he stopped again. "Or was it that way? Wait… did we run past it already?"

"Dave! Get a grip!" Brittany screamed. "Find the van, or we're all gonna **die**!"

"Let's not get pessimistic," Valerie tried to play the situation off but failed miserably. "Maybe even _one_ of us **might** make it out of this alive." She stopped to fire a few shots at the men to hopefully slow them down, or even better, injure them. While one of the shots scored a hit in the meat of a sole man's thigh, making the man yell in pain, her other shots went wide. "Christ! I wanna live! Find the friggin' van!" She started running again after where Dave was leading, and he had finally come to a stop. "Did you find it?!"

"Yes!" He let Eleanor down and allowed her to lean on Theodore so that he could freely search his pockets for the keys. "Oh no…no-no-no-no-no-no-no-crap-crap-crap-crap!"

"What is it?!" Jeanette shouted as she saw the man frantically search his pockets, before realization dawned on his face as he looked off towards the hotel. "Oh my God! You forgot the keys, didn't you?!"

"I must've left it on the table in Valerie's bedroom! I took it out because it was making me uncomfortable while I sat-"

"That's just GREAT!" Eleanor fumed. "We're all going to get famous for all the wrong reasons! Bloody murder on the news!"

"Not today!" Valerie began knocking on the van window to the driver's seat with the muzzle of her gun hard at the center of the window, before continuing the series of hard knocks towards the base in the far right side of the glass. Then, she smashed it quickly and efficiently and she herself gawked in surprise along with the others. "Damn! That Youtube video that showed how firefighters do it really works! Guess Youtube is still the best University, huh?" She reached inside and pulled up on the child safety lock and yanked the door open, before turning to the others who were still staring at the woman as if she had grown a second head. "Well, I'm gonna hotwire it, if your dumb looks is asking why I broke in! If we're gonna steal a car, we might as well steal ours, am I right?! No one can press charges!" She slung off her laptop bag and swept off most of the offensive glass, before climbing inside, bounding over to the front-passenger seat.

Dave finally picked up his jaw off of the ground as the shooting resumed in full swing. "All right, all right! Um… this isn't like the movies, you know! Can you do this?"

"We're all going to die if I _can't_!" She passed the Glock to Dave. "Now let the kids in and start shooting at those bastards to keep them away to buy me some time!" Dave nearly dropped the gun in his repulsion of the weapon, but instead tossed it up and behind the dashboard in favor of focusing on getting the panicking singers inside. Grabbing onto the van lever and pushing the door open, he let them inside and watched as Alvin bundled Brittany inside before him and let himself in last, slamming the door closed.

"Let's get going!" The chipmunk cried. "Go, go, GO!"

Shots rang through the rear windshield, nearly blowing through Jeanette's head, making everyone drop flat to lie down on the seats and on the floor of the vehicle. "Shit, Dave!" Valerie exclaimed as she smashed her way into the plastic panels on the steering column with her .45 that she had kept on her belt. "You'd better start shooting at them to get them to back off! If they come any closer, we're FINISHED!"

"I…errm…" Dave grabbed the gun, unsure of its handling. "I don't have to shoot at them, do I?" He accidentally pointed the ballistics weapon at Valerie, giving the woman a scare.

" **Goddamn** **it** , Dave! Point that thing in the right direction and shoot! Didn't you ever use water guns when you were a kid?!" Taking that as a cue, the man nervously held the pistol in both hands and accidentally fired a shot at the car next to him; the unexpected recoil nearly made him drop the gun again and the forgotten bullet buried itself in the car door. "I said ' **point** in the **right direction'**!" Valerie yelled as she worked furiously. "Geez, this looked so much faster in the movies. C'mon, I know I saw this on YouTube!"

"YouTube?!" Alvin yelled from where he was crouching over Brittany in the first row passenger seat. "We're trusting our lives to an internet video?!"

"You have a better idea, 'Mr. Runner'? Some of us have to drive, y'know! Eleanor can barely walk, let alone run!"

Eleanor ceased screaming long enough to give her own riposte. "I wonder **whose fault** that is?!"

The shots ceased briefly, as the men outside reloaded their weapons. "Not the time, girl!" Valerie yelled as she tried to gather her bearings. "Okay! I found the two red power wires!" She shouted as she squinted down at the wiring she was trying to pull apart. "Anyone got a knife?!"

"Really?" Alvin couldn't believe his ears. "A _knife_? Right **NOW**?! Are you joking?!"

Dave's nervous fingers actually squeezed off a shot that ricocheted close to one of the gunmen who were all hiding behind vehicles as they began firing at the van again, making them afraid to venture out of their cover. "I think there's a penknife in the glove-box! I normally keep it to-"

"Don't care why!" Valerie exclaimed as she began rooting through the compartment holdings in search for the knife. She finally found it in a nerve-wracking moment. "Trying to save our lives!" She cut the power cords from the cylinder and connected them together with an audible buzz; in the same moment, the electricity flowed through the vehicle; the dashboard lights came on, and the radio began playing classical music. "Ow!" The woman flinched as she ceased to hold the wires. "Damn! It's been a while since I got shocked like that!" She then cut the starter wires from the cylinder while stripping them with the knife. "Damn, this did look a hell of a lot easier in the movies!" She touched the two starter wires together, and achieved full power. She then held the two cords in her left hand, dropped the knife into her lap, then stretched a portion of her blouse to hold the two exposed wires and bind them together to avoid shocking herself again. "Did it!" She looked over to Dave, only to see him trying to shoot the now-empty Glock 17 but only getting clicks. "Dave, quit trying to shoot that empty gun and get us of here!"

The man immediately dropped the gun to the floor of the vehicle. "Wow!" He kept his foot on the brake as he shifted into 'Drive'. "It worked!" He then yanked up on the parking brake and took his foot off the pedal brake and stomped on the gas. Revving up the bullet-riddled van, he swung out of the parking spot weaving around in the maze of cars in the parking lot. He narrowly avoided a few of the gunmen as they kept on firing at them the whole time, bullets sinking into the van but failing to penetrate and kill the group inside. The brand new van was already looking like junkyard material, but it was all that Dave could do to ensure that he kept the vehicle driving a straight line. Valerie leaned her body outside of the window partially while returning gunfire on the men in kind as the van sped to the exit.

"Take that, you dumb bastards!" Most of her shots were far more accurate than Dave's had been. They actually kept the men in fear of being shot than being a skirmish tactic, especially since one of her bullets had taken root in a man's stomach, making him scream bloody murder. "I got plenty more where that came from!" Her gun ran dry quickly, though, and she scuffled through her laptop back for another magazine. "Scratch that, I don't have that many bullets!" The woman hissed to herself loudly. "I thought I had more than this… oh… I forgot… I had to make space for the laptop's charger cable. Priorities, priorities." A shot slammed into the car door, making her duck back inside the vehicle in fear, but she soon resumed shooting, nonetheless. "Just keep driving, Dave!"

"This is CRAZY!" The man bellowed. "Is everyone alright back there?" He called behind to the children as he kept his eyes on the road. "Are you all okay? Thank God! That was insane!"

"You said it, Dave!" Alvin agreed. "If this was what these guys could do from the start, I'd be okay if they continued trying to throw me off of bridges!"

"Keep your head down, sweetie!" Valerie called as she continued firing. The gunmen had entered vehicles of their own, but the van was far ahead, already losing the men distance-wise. "Keep your head down, Alvin!" She hooted in a small celebration as she soon lost sight of the men as the van sped through the empty streets. "I'm sure that Brittany wouldn't want you to lose it!"

 **A Pyrrhic victory is a success that comes at a cost so high that it wasn't worthwhile. Do you think that they won today, in something that was worthwhile? They lost Simon, lost their suites and the belongings inside, not to mention they're driving in a van full of bullet-holes to escape Ravin' Raven.**

 **Give thanks for health and strength, I suppose.**

 **Well, I guess I've settled down to write some action. I hope I didn't fail in that aspect today. Besides that, today, I learned how to hotwire a car. You all did too. Don't go stealing any cars, though! ^_^**

 **I… I'm tired. This word count passed the normal one by an extra 1.5 K and I hope you enjoyed reading it even half as much as I did creating it! Let me know what you think.**

 **Valete omnes,**

 **MRAY 4TW.**


	33. Chapter 33

**AATC: Territory**

 **I'm alive. Giving thanks.**

 **Good afternoon/morning/evening/night. I don't know when you're reading this. But since you are, thanks for continuing to support the story by reading it thus far. But I'm going to have to take it easier on how I write. I think I'd write much better romance if I wasn't quite so literal. Every fandom I browse, the lady-writers create much better romance using metaphorical prose; it's usually the case, since it's practically a scientific fact, as I've never read a romance novel/fanfiction by a guy that could compare to theirs. Me thinks I should take up femmes' example if I want to improve.**

 **But not too much, or I'll betray my own writing style. I don't want to change myself, I just want my writing to evolve.**

 **I've been writing this for twenty-one months. I think I've grown as a writer since the start, but I have a long way to go.**

* * *

 **33.**

The dark of the early Tuesday morning had yet to see daybreak, as did the streets up till now to see traffic. The overhead streetlights shone dim circles that illuminated portions of the streets, some of which easily revealed the lone bullet-riddled van as it sped along well over the usual (and legal) limit. One such radiance glinted off of Dave's watch as he kept his hands steady on the steering wheel, drawing his attention to it; bringing up his left hand to bring it closer to his face, he barely saw the thin hands on its classic face.

"Almost four-thirty," Dave mumbled. He eased up a little on the gas, mirroring his own decreasing adrenaline. "Is everyone okay?" He asked for the umpteenth time. "My God! There were bullets flying EVERYWHERE!" He could barely keep his voice low; he was still that much relieved that he and those precious to him had escaped with their lives.

"I still haven't found any of them in me," Brittany replied curtly, "none since you asked us thirty seconds ago."

"Ditto," Alvin added.

"Only poison here."

"Could be better." Eleanor and Jeanette sounded off. Theodore, however, looked down at his right hand which was oozing blood from a semi-deep cut in his palm. It stung, to some extent; he had incurred the wound when he was clearing out pieces of broken glass from where Eleanor was about to sit in the van. It wasn't chivalry, it was typical for him to consider her before himself. While the cut hurt, he paid it little mind. But to his credit, he didn't stay silent.

"Um… does anyone have a bandage?" He asked quietly.

"A what?!" Eleanor's eyes widened. "Oh no!" She checked him over frantically. "You didn't get **shot** , did you?!"

"No, no! Just a cut!" While happy that she was worried about him, he hoped that she wasn't reverting back to her old ways of being too maternal. "I only need a bandage or a tissue for _this_ ," he gestured his bleeding hand to add emphasis. Looking over her shoulder at the green Seville to regard his injury, Valerie then rooted through the glove-box for something she could give him, but only found a wad of tissues.

"I swear, if this was a woman's van, it'd have a lot more of the essentials." She passed the tissues to Theodore, who thanked her for the offer. "It's fine, Theo. Just keep some pressure on it until you get something better to use later," Valerie suggested kindly as she pulled out her pistol again, pulled out the magazine to check her shots, then slid it back in. It was an act that seemed oxymoronic, for her to sound so _motherly_ and yet go through the motions of a seasoned shooter. They all watched her as she did this and it was something that she took note of. "Somethin' wrong?"

Alvin narrowed his eyes as he regarded her actions, recalling her prior ones of shooting at Ravin' Raven's men. "You shot at them so easily. Maybe even killed-"

"Yeah, well, guns don't kill people," Valerie snapped. "People do. People want to kill you, and I reacted in self-defense. Or 'us'-defense, if you want to get technical. They shot at us so I shot at them. We're alive. That's what matters."

"But-" Alvin was about to defend his argument, but Valerie cut him off before he even began.

"But nothing, Alvin. You all dug yourself into this hole. So far as I see it, this was coming for a long time, but you all just sat on your hands, ignoring all the theatrical warnings. Hell, maybe if Raven had just shot Eleanor to death like he had originally planned, you would've been home by now, or even so, you wouldn't be arguing morals right now. I don't think I killed any of them. Besides, there are hospitals nearby. And," she parted her fingers to rub at her eyes, a hint of her being exasperated, "if they **did** die, that's just one or two fewer scumbags we'll have to deal with."

They were all horrified; Dave felt a cold drop of sweat sprout and run an icy trail down his cheek as the temperature inside the van seemingly dropped to a sub-zero temperature. Although it affected them all equally, it was Alvin who recovered his voice first. "Who… _who_ are you?"

Valerie hesitated as she returned the gun back into her laptop bag. "What're you talking about? I'm Valerie. One and the same."

"No, you're not."

"And how would _**you**_ know?!" Valerie low tone was so intense that she might as well have screamed. "Huh, Mr. Clueless? Think you're smart now, just because you figured out that I was the hacker? If you could do that, why couldn't you have wised up before this shit-storm erupted? Your brother gets a poison decaf, Jeanette nearly got herself run over, you got your ass thrown off a bridge before nearly getting yourself shot. You all still stuck around like a bunch of stubborn four-year-olds! I've been trying to keep you out of harm's way, dropping messages to warn you. But you stayed in Miami. Hell, you weren't even supposed to even make it ten steps from the airport without getting yourselves filled up with bullets from a drive-by if I hadn't told Vincent that you all didn't know that you were stepping in his zone. And despite all his shit-warnings, even the devil himself has to wonder why you stuck around! And then this crap with Eleanor should've been the last straw! No matter how I tried to talk Vincent down, he was deadset on emptying a gun in Eleanor...! I decided to take matters into my own hands as far as _she_ was concerned, just so he wouldn't have a reason to target her anymore. But you all STILL stayed! You can call me callous, but I don't want to be judged by a teenager who's self-destructive and headstrong enough to not think about other peoples' wellbeing. Not you, Alvin, not you, Brittany, not you, Eleanor, not even Dave. Not **one** of you." Valerie seemingly calmed down as her emotional high was reduced to dregs.

To his credit, Alvin appeared ashamed, but it soon developed into a heavy frown. "It's not our fault. It's Raven's fault. He's the one doing all of this! We didn't do anything to him!"

"Well, your epiphany's not going to change things," Valerie grumbled. "We… no… You're **all** getting out of the state. **Right** _**now**_."

Theodore forgot to press the tissue into his cut temporarily as he thought on this. "What about Simon? We can't leave him behind! And aren't you coming with us?"

Valerie shook her head. "Nah." She glanced over to Dave, who was gripping the steering wheel with fingers of steel; no doubt that the stress was getting to him. "Oi, Dave. You can let me off here. All you're doing is driving in a straight direction, anyway."

"Hmm?" He looked up as if confused. "Here?" He pedaled the brake, slowing to a stop. It took a while, which went to show how fast he had been going. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I'm sure." She pulled up the child-safety lock and opened the door, stepping outside onto the pavement they had pulled up next to. "Later."

"Wait!"

Valerie had been about to walk off, but the call stopped her. In the silence of the night, she heard the side door of the van slide open. A few moments passed before a pair of feet stepped outside unsteadily, apparently unsure of even a simple act such as walking. "Yeah? What?"

It was Eleanor who revealed herself from around the side of the van first, leaning against Theodore as her own body was clearly in protest to any form of self-action. Despite this, however, she shrugged off her significant other, who immediately understood her wishes for independence. "Um… you're not running away because I threatened to punch you earlier, is it?" Her smile, while good-natured, looked forced. "Is that why you're leaving?"

Valerie exhaled deeply in mild frustration as she listened to the girl's irrelevant comment. "If a petty thing like that is so important to you, just hit me and get it over with." Her dare to the chipette was made and to her minor surprise, the green Miller finished making her weak advance even though she was bereft of Theodore's assistance, soon arriving within arm's reach. "Well?"

Instead of feeling a weak punch to her stomach that she had been bracing for, Valerie felt two arms encircle her about the waist, before instinctively feeling that the girl's petite frame was now leaning entirely against her.

Valerie was being hugged.

"Huh? Why-"

"Thanks, Valerie. I bet it was hard to do. I bet it was even harder for you to watch me… eat the poisoned crap you gave me!" Eleanor sounded as if she was choking back a sob. "It hurts! My joints are killing me! My stomach feels like it was frickin' pumped! But I'm _feeling_! And I like it! I'm not dead! I didn't get shot to death! I'm thankful!"

Valerie looked up, realizing that the others in the van were watching, before looking down to meet Eleanor's crying emeralds. "Um… I don't know what to say…"

"You don't have to!" Eleanor sounded like she was begging. "And they're being cowards if they don't want to say it! Thank… _you._ "

Gratitude? The hacker glanced toward where Dave was sticking his head out the van. He nodded in aloof agreement, giving her the answer she sought. 'I'm being thanked…?'

"I don't know why you've chosen to help us," Eleanor entreated. "But I'm not going to pry. Please don't leave…" The chipette looked down, almost in self-disgust. "Agh, damn. Now I sound like a sap…"

"The sappiest," Valerie agreed she patted Eleanor's head, before easing her off. "I get it. But you guys wouldn't want me to tag along; trust me, trouble just seems to be a magnet for me."

"Us too!" Brittany called from the van as she pointed at the red Seville. "You wouldn't believe what Alvin here did last year! Nearly broke all of his bones just to try to impress and cheer up a girl! Trouble just seems to find us all the time."

"You were the girl!" Alvin protested with a wail, but his complaints went silent.

"Trouble misses people on occasion, but it doesn't pass anyone," Jeanette quoted.

"Aren't you going to help us get back Simon?" Theodore beseeched. Under assault from verbal 'attacks' such as these, Valerie felt steam starting to billow from her ears.

"Alright, alright! Damn, you guys are lucky you're cute…" At this, Alvin grinned smugly, before deciding in his own mind that he was 'ruggedly handsome'. He soon shook his head to clear it of the momentary distraction; it benefited him none.

"Hey, come to think of it, why'd you want to get off here, anyway?"

"I actually have a safe-house nearby. Vincent doesn't know about this one. I was gonna crash there to figure out my next move-"

"Can we come? Wait a minute…" Alvin thought deeply. "Are we gonna roll the van into a lake or a river to get rid of it? Burn it? Blow it up?!" His eyes nearly shone with excitement over this, earning a smack over the head courtesy of Brittany. "Ow! Dang it!"

"Thanks. I was wondering how I'd manage to smack him from all the way from over here," Valerie commented. "Any more of that movie idiocy and my head would've blown up. Brittany, you've got your hands full with this one. My God, that kid's a real piece of work!"

Brittany blushed deeply. "What's that supposed to mean?" However, to her repute, Valerie didn't respond. She merely took Eleanor's hand in hers and helped her to the van, before returning to her former front-passenger seat.

"Alright, let's go. It's just two blocks from here. Don't be afraid to gas it a little to get there faster." She yawned as she stretched her arms. "Feels like ages since I slept in my own bed for a change… you know, without worrying that I won't wake up again."

 **=X=X=**

"Well, what the f*ck do you mean, they escaped?! Do you have shit between your two ears? Don't you have a brain?! You've all got guns, and you're telling me that you let ALL of them get away?! Well, what the f*ck were you doing, huh? Sticking your thumbs up your asses?! You'd better find the bitch, or ain't none of you are gonna walk away from this!"

As the ranting went on in full swing downstairs, from his own room, Simon felt a strange mixture of fear, relief, and safety. The first two were understandable; he was afraid for his own life, being a captive in the clutches of a dangerous and despotic singer. The shock of being relieved was expected, given the fact that he had overheard Ravin' Raven order some of his men to 'go over to the hotel and give everyone new holes to breathe from'. He had been horrified, even to the point of being nauseous as images of a mutilated Jeanette kept materializing in his imagination, a frightening possibility… and a looming reality.

Then two loud gunshots sounded downstairs.

Simon felt… safer. He had no reason to be. He was still in a dreadful fix, stuck in a cage of a room, locked from the outside. No way of escape and his captors could enter in at any time and put a few bullets in him to end his life on a nightmarish highlight. There was nothing that two inches of a closed-door could do to stop it.

But it still made him feel safer.

He was here. Right here. He tried to get his beating heart under control, and was actually successful with a short minute, a true sign that his mind slowly becoming his again.

"You see?!" The shout came from downstairs; Vincent was still yelling at his subordinates. "You SEE?! That's how you fire a f*ckin' gun! Do you need me to school you on how to fire it straight, too?! If you still have doubt on that too, give me your gun and I'll SHOW you!"

There were cries of protests, coming from a sole man that Simon guessed was being threatened. Following soon after, a few shots boomed downstairs, a death rattle. Silence.

Yet, while he did feel safer knowing that Ravin' Raven was taking out his anger on his men who'd failed to kill Valerie, his family, the Millers… Jeanette, Simon considered his situation and knew that even if he managed to live and escape Vincent's wrath, he would have nightmares to last him for the rest of his life.

Sure enough, exhaustion caught up with him and as he feared, the terrors of reality followed him into his fragile slumber, making him wish for morning.

 **=X=X=**

"So… let me get this straight… we're **not** going to blow up the car?"

Brittany exhaled deeply, letting Alvin know that she was growing exasperated at his nonsense. She shook her head, before reaching across to yank on the door lever to open it. "No, Alvin. This isn't some dumb action movie, 'kay?" Finally pulling the sliding door open, she got out, breathing in the early morning in long draughts. Noticing the crispness, she averted her eyes to the sky, noticing how one region was far lighter than the rest. "Holy crap. It's almost dawn. It makes me feel like all the trouble lasted all night!"

"All the more reason to get into bed," Valerie moaned. "Hey, Dave. There's an abandoned parking lot behind the building. Just park the van around there next to the shipping container, and throw the blue tarpaulin over it. The tarpaulin should be right next to the container. You can do it by yourself, right?"

"Aren't you coming with me?" However, one look at her tired eyes told him to just depart for the task by himself. Though the fact remained that he had gotten the same amount of sleep she'd had, that is to say, _none_ , he'd oblige her this instance. She looked that horrible. "Fine." He allowed the 'munks and 'ettes to finish disembarking before he drove off to complete his undertaking, mumbling something about redheads.

"What was that all about?" Alvin asked, as if to no one. Brittany felt her eyebrow twitch as she tried to resist smacking Alvin upside the head.

'Damn. Is he that thick-headed when it comes to romance?' The thought made her shiver a bit, nearly enough to make her want to rethink her feelings for him. "Don't be dense, Alvin," she whispered subtly to him, so as to not allow Valerie to overhear her, "Dave likes her. _A lot_."

Alvin shrugged while frowning severely. "Well, whatever. My main concern right now is Simon. I've gotta think of something that can get him out!"

"You mean 'we', right Alvin?" Jeanette butted in, a look of sheer seriousness on her face. "'We', correct? **We** 've got to think of a way to get him out?"

"And me!" Theodore interjected as well. Eleanor and Brittany joined in, willing to lend their assistance as well. But before they could get carried away, Valerie stated her piece.

"Forget about it. I'm sad to say this, but you're only children," Valerie pontificated with a grimace. "There's no need for you kill any brain cells anyway, Mr. Prankster." Ignoring the deflated look on his face, she continued, "besides, I've already decided on how to get Simon back."

"You have?!" Jeanette's mood abruptly did a one-eighty swing as she dared to hope again. "How are you going to do it?" Valerie merely shook her head, signifying that she wasn't going to tell, or at least, not quite so soon. "It's going to work, right?"

Rather than raise false hope, Valerie dodged the question with a slight. "It _has_ to work. Now let's get going." Waving her hand at the building behind her, she directed them along towards the entrance. "Go inside."

"Inside there?!" Brittany gawked up at the dilapidated building, the structure was decrepit with outlandish graffiti, rotting boards, and broken lattice windows. "Some cruddy, old, termite-infested motel? Is this it?"

Valerie felt her eyebrow begin to tick in rising annoyance. "I would've expected that kind of outburst from Alvin."

"If it's worth anything, I'm in full agreement," Alvin offered. "But are you serious?"

"Even I'm doubtful. This building is _not_ up to code. It could collapse at any-" Jeanette didn't even get a chance to finish as the red-headed woman already began to walk away, strafing around to the side of the building. They hurried after her, only to see a common metal door, although this appeared to be more modern; in fact, it could even be considered a renovation. Pulling out a key from her laptop bag, she inserted it into the lock before turning it to open the door. At last, she reached her hand into the door beyond and flipped a switch and on its reckon, modern halls beyond lit up with fluorescent lighting.

"Happy now? This part is safer. I'm sure it won't _collapse_." Jeanette had the decency to appear slightly penitent, before following the woman who took the lead. "Anyway, I need one of you to wait here by the door until Dave comes. I don't want him to go through the wrong door or something."

"I'll do it," Alvin quietly volunteered, choosing to stay behind. The others filed on after Valerie, save for a lone pink chipette who lagged behind purposefully just to wait with the red Seville. "Hmm? Brittany? What's up?"

"You've looked better."

The simple statement was enough to make him cock up an eyebrow. "Huh? I'm still the best looking guy I know."

Brittany threw him a deadpan look, dropping the hint that he was far away from what she meant. "Get over yourself. I'm only saying that I'm worried too."

"I know you are. I'm not even scared for us anymore. I'm just worried about Simon, but I feel kinda ashamed too. I get the feeling that Jeanette's way more worried about Simon than I am if she's got the guts to point a gun at Valerie just to get her to do what she wanted."

"I know what you mean. But I don't think it's anything new. I swear, it's like those two scientists were made for each other. Like the song that Simon wrote for Jeanette on Saturday. I also got the same vibes from Eleanor and Theodore. Our younger siblings are pairing up…" She began to drone nervously after this, unintentionally dropping the massive hint to Alvin where she was going with this. In the recesses of his mind, he could hear his 'inner Alvin' yelling at him to take the chance and confess how he truly felt. Nonetheless, all he had was a shape. A shape. It wasn't definite, and hardly symmetrical. It was his feelings for Brittany, and he had no idea on how to describe it in words to tell her. Fully aware that he was a teenaged boy, he knew that he could be feeling the pulls of infatuation, rather than love.

But he still wanted to tell her. If anything came of it, however, what if he crashed and burned? Would there be anything of a friendship to salvage once the smoke cleared? It had taken a freak accident, a rather very unfortunate one, to give them a reason to be friends again, to be each other's strength. He didn't consider her weak, nor did she consider him strong. They had a one-in-a-million camaraderie, one that could never be again if he didn't look before he leaped.

Dash? No? One step at a time? He was a runner, a sprinter, rush. To progress slowly was a rate he was completely unfamiliar with. But if it was Brittany, he'd give it his all. In any case, she deserved the best anyway. She graced him with a pleasant smile, showing that she was happier, even in company such as his. Time slowed to a sluggish crawl as he noted how it accentuated her already-pretty features and made her look even more attractive than before. Not in a carnal way, but a more simplistic loveliness, in the way that flowers were. Focused, nothing wasted. Bold as brass. Creative. Proud. Beautiful too, and she'd yet to reach full maturity. Wow.

With that in mind, he gave Brittany a smile. "Say, after this is all over, wanna go get some pancakes?"

"Sure."

* * *

 **Well, I was more metaphoric. I hope there was (a likable) difference.**

 **I wanted to make this into a cliffhanger while carrying over some of the action from the last scene, but the last thing I wanted was to make this fiction come off like an action movie. Yep, I made a poke at that.**

 **Hope you enjoyed the (transitional) chapter. I'll get to work on the next one soon.**

 **Valete omnes,**

 **MRAY 4TW.**

 **September 23, 2017 - P.S.: I've been around the fandom, and I took notice of a fic that got updated recently. It's SpyroDragonTime's story, (Alvin and the Chipmunks: A Twist of Fate) and apparently, it's undergone a massive amendment. It started with ten chapters but now, it's currently at four chapters, with a higher word count (per chapter) than it was previously, with re-worked themes and plot-points. It seems that it's going to be an Epic; it's been a while since I saw one of those. If you're interested, go take a look-see.**


	34. Chapter 34 (White First)

**AATC: Territory**

 **Would you believe that it's an** _ **APP**_ **that's actually giving me an aft-kick to continue typing this? It's like a micromanager of your time, tasks, and sleeping hours in the form of a Role-Playing-Game (RPG) system. It allows you to treat your responsibilities and commitments like missions and points are earned for 'skills' you specify; 'exercise', for example, can allot points to your 'strength' statistic, or doing your homework boosts your 'intelligence'. It's kinda neat. It's called 'LifeRPG', in case anyone's interested.**

 **Took me long enough to get back here. I want to read my own conclusion. Oh… it's not today. But it's** _ **very soon.**_

 **34.**

Brittany tried to be as inconspicuous as possible as she listened at the door, trying to make out the conversations between Valerie and her crush. She could barely catch on to what the woman was saying, but from the sound of things, she was talking to the Seville about the gun she owned. Deciding to put an end to things, she backed up from the door down the hall and called for her significant other. After exiting Valerie's room and closing the door behind him to find her, he inquired what was wrong.

"You know that she's talking about _guns_ , right?"

Alvin shrugged as if nothing was wrong. "Yeah. I guess so. That's why I'm talking with her. I think she's nervous, 'cause she's kinda rambling about it." Brittany leveled him a deadpan stare, wondering if he was losing his mind simply by being in the same room as the woman.

"Alvin… she's talking about _guns_. Is your head empty or something? They **kill** people and… and…"

Alvin frowned. "I know all of that, Britt. It's not like I'm trying to learn about it or anything." That wasn't entirely true, but he thought it would be prudent not to _tell_ her that. "She's even been telling me a little about coding. I know that she's a criminal and all that junk and that she's **dangerous** , but if it makes her calmer, then I'll do it! She's trying to get Simon back!" Alvin took hold of Brittany's wrist and started to pull on her in an effort to get her to accompany him, tugging the unwilling chipette. "You should join her. It's the least you could do, you know? Maybe it'll let her know that you're not harboring any bad feelings about her or anything."

"What?! I can tolerate her. But if you think I'm gonna just start up a conversation with a gun-toting, criminal hacker-" Alvin opened the door right during the middle of her rant, forcing Brittany to correct herself hastily. "Good afternoon, Valerie? Keeping up okay?"

Valerie looked up to regard the Miller, then about the room feigning confusion. "You talking to me? Really? Why would anyone ask a gun-toting criminal hacker how she's doing?" Brittany flushed with embarrassment and laughed awkwardly while Alvin seemingly abandoned her at the door in search for something elsewhere.

"Traitor," Brittany hissed to him as he left before turning back to Valerie. "Oh… you heard all that, huh?"

The redhead fiddled with her stray bullets and magazine, beginning to fill the latter with them. "If you don't want to be in my company, you don't have to be. I'm not forcing you." The woman's fingers continued to slip the cartridges underneath the trap and press them down, feeding the live shells into the magazine. "Besides… I might not be around very long for it to matter."

Brittany gazed on as the woman finished packing the magazine with bullets and then went on to idly slip the magazine into her gun and out again repeatedly. "So… you're scared that you're gonna die?"

Valerie laughed, a forced expression of mirth. "No need to get so morbid with all that death talk! I'm talking about taking a vacation after you all get out of Miami! Hawaii, maybe. Or somewhere in Europe like France." Brittany shook her head to this, seeing right through the woman's dim sarcasm.

"I'd be scared too, Valerie. Death is pretty frightening."

"…" Valerie stopped. "I said 'taking a vacation'. Didn't you hear me?"

"All I heard was a _lie.._." Brittany answered frankly as she gazed at the woman. Valerie was a strong person, or at least they _thought_ her to be. Seeing how she managed their time, organized their dealings, being able to shoulder their concerns or to even be a friendly ear they could talk to, it was easy to think that she was superhuman. Brittany had seen the red-head in this light and realized that she had been wrong. She, no matter what kind of person she was, had and always will be human, no more, no less. She treated herself well, that was apparent, bearing the personification of fortitude. But now, looking even closer when in her proximity, Brittany saw that the difference. She saw how sleep-starved the woman was. How stressed she was. How lonely she was.

How afraid she was…

Brittany could identify a lot of stress-related disorders and habits in people. Biting nails, writing a sentence over and over, grinding teeth. Repeatedly fiddling with her gun by offhand reloading it, unpacking and repacking her magazines fell into the same category, as bizarre as it seemed.

"It doesn't matter, okay? Besides…" Valerie went on to smile weakly. "That vacation could still happen." Brittany nodded in response. It helped to stay positive, although it was rather pitiful. There were other ways… Brittany decided to be more empathetic.

"I'm scared of dying too. I don't know what so mystifying about it when I read about it in books. When you realize about you're gonna die, all you can think about is… all of your mistakes." She recalled how she and Alvin used to be at each other's throats constantly like wild wolves, especially leading up to week when she was going to catch her 'Big Break' with her sisters in another state. It was rather strange, Brittany mused, that she had been so regretful of keeping bad relations with him when she'd had her near-death experience in the car crash, the very same she lost her mother in. "It's like death's trying to show you how much of a screw-up you've been."

Valerie snapped her fingers. "Uh huh. Exactly. I've had that feeling before. It's not like you're seeing your life flash before your eyes in the movies. You just start thinking about all the mistakes you made and how much time you've wasted. Then everything just starts spiraling and you realize how scared you are of dying."

"You sound like you've been at death's door quite a few times," Brittany observed quietly.

"Nah. I've only been there once to prank-ring his doorbell and run away," Valerie jested in dark humor. "Old Man 'D' couldn't catch me!"

Brittany could help but chuckle. "Yeah. He didn't catch me either." She looked on as Valerie became more relaxed and sighed. "I guess I'm trying not to make those same mistakes anymore."

"Me too. I mean, I've done some of them again…and again… and _again_ …" Valerie heaved a large exhale, though her expression hardened. She eased the magazine into her gun for the final time before slamming it in with the butt of her palm. Pulling back on the chamber, she let it snap shut with finality. "But I'm gonna fix the biggest one."

Brittany's eyebrows nearly lifted completely up to her hairline when she thought of the implications. "I thought that you were going to do some sort of 'blackmail-type deal' to get Simon back. What're you going to do with that gun-"

"That's a dumb question, Brittany," Valerie chastised. "I'm not going to take the risk of going to his house unarmed. Did you forget about this morning? He wants to shut me up too. After this, he's probably gonna want me dead, not only because I 'betrayed' him by helping all of you, but because I know all about his dirty work. We never did trust one another to begin with, but my services were very _useful_ to him. He extorts or threatens all the singers that crop up here, makes a fortune by a monopoly and I use my 'expertise' to keep him clean. I just happened to keep all of his 'dirty laundry', so to speak, so I'm even a bigger liability than the lot of you. it's clear that he's impatient, and he's cutting his losses."

"Then why would you help him from the start?! Huh?" Brittany yelled in exasperation. "You knew what he was like before you worked with him, didn't you?!"

"I did," the redhead replied calmly. "But I owe him. Just like I owed you guys too. Guess you can't always try to play both sides of the fence."

"So that's why you helped him? Because you owe him? Then just pay him back!"

"How do you repay someone who's saved your life?" Valerie asked rhetorically. Brittany sucked air sharply between her teeth in a gasp, trying to think of a response but could not. "That's right. You can't."

"Well…" The chipette decided to sway to the adjoining point in the woman's argument. "You said that you owed us too? Is that why you're trying to help us?" Brittany's mind began to race with unanswered questions as her own rapid-fire queries only served to make Valerie appear distraught with each one. "I don't know you and I can't remember any money dealings with you… We're kind of broke… wait… did you **steal** money from us-?"

"No, Brittany. I didn't steal money from any of you…" Valerie hemmed and hawed, trying to think of an admission without upsetting her companion. "It's just that Ravin' Raven committed the 'Perfect Crime'."

The Miller raised an eyebrow. "…Huh? What's that supposed to mean-"

Valerie had already turned away from her, going over to the telephone. "Soon, it won't matter anymore. I'll be out of your lives, one way or another." She picked up the phone and began to punch in Ravin' Raven's phone number. "Better now than later," Valerie mumbled to herself before she heard someone pick up the call on the other line.

" _Hello?"_

"Hello, Vincent. It's Valerie. We need to _**talk**_."

…

…

"You get all that, Vincent?"

" _F*ck you, bitch!"_ Valerie only sighed at the man's outburst, wondering if he was far more prone to curse than to behave sensibly. Regardless, she had to keep her senses about her; it could have been a façade of belligerence by the man to get her to drop her guard. He wasn't the smartest, sure, but being clever was in a class all of its own.

"I want to see Simon **unhurt** , you bastard! You hear me! I'm sending a taxi out to your house to pick him up at five pm and if he's even got a scratch anywhere, I'm leaking all the evidence that'll make you look worse than Hitler! Your Godfather-type shit that you've been doing until now is gonna get you a lethal injection, you hear me?"

" _You've got nothing, Valerie! You have a hand in nearly everything I've done! Even if you manage not to implicate yourself, I've still got video evidence that can stand up in court! You can hack all you want, but this DVD has a lot of copies, and they're in a lot of hands. If I go down, I've got people who'll make sure that it makes the news. What will all those_ _ **rats**_ _think when they see it, huh?! What will they think of the person they look up to?! Act tough all you want, but your scrawny ass is gonna get molested in jail, and that's if I don't get you_ _ **first**_ _!"_

Valerie sighed in a mixture of anger and disappointment, trying to think of a way to outsmart the rapper. "I don't care for your empty threats! I've already wiped all the blackmail you have on the police, so they're not gonna turn a blind eye to all this crap anymore! Not even you can bribe the commissioner once he sees all this evidence I've got on you! It's time released, and I'm the only one who can stop it if you meet all of my conditions! If Simon… hell, if _any_ of the singers get hurt… even if **I** die, you'll still _lose_ … and that's **F*CKING GOOD ENOUGH FOR ME!** " Valerie screamed into the phone before slamming it down on the hook. "Damn!" Taking in deep breaths to come down from her emotional high, she gave herself a minute to comprehend that she'd just told the man that she was alright with dying. "Oh good Lord, I'm gonna… Oh geez…" Glancing at the clock, she realized that it was now four in the afternoon. "I'd better get my shit together," the woman muttered to herself, before heading outside to find the others.

They were all seated in the living room; in and of itself, wasn't strange at all. It was where the second telephone was, and they were most likely eavesdropping. She'd known it would happen and had intended it to happen, though she hadn't accounted for the rapper to insinuate that she was even worse than himself. They'd most likely started to doubt her, although she was hoping for the better. "So umm… I lost my patience at the end there…" Valerie grumbled sheepishly, "sorry about the language at the end."

"Me? I don't know about the others, but I've heard worse when I watched _'Scarface'_ ," Alvin pointed out. "Besides that, I can't believe that I used to look up to _him_. That rapper's a prick-"

"Alvin!" Dave hissed. "We've gone through a lot, but our language isn't going to stoop!"

"Language?" Brittany gawked. "Are you joking?! We've been threatened, nearly killed in random accidents and we've been **shot** at and you're worried about our damn language, Dave?!" Before Dave could rise to her argument, Jeanette yelled for order; she was usually diminutive in a voice akin to Theodore himself and resulted in getting everyone's attention, mostly by surprise.

"Hey! Guys! Simon! You know, the guy we're trying to save? Did you all forget that?!" Looking around and was satisfied to see them cowed, she settled back into her seat. "The language doesn't matter. What we know Valerie's done doesn't matter. What we've gone through **doesn't** matter, at least, not anymore. What matters is what we're going to **do** , right?" Receiving unintelligible confirmatory responses, she nodded. "Good. Valerie? We all heard what you told Ravin' Raven, but I've got some concerns. You said he's rich, right? What if he bribes the police like you said he's done before? Won't he get away with what he's doing and hurt you and Simon when you try to pick him up?"

"I'm counting on it," Valerie remarked strangely. "He's going to need to liquidate all of his electronic money into cold hard cash. That means that he's going to need a withdrawal from the bank." She stopped here, causing Eleanor to wind her hand at the wrist, signaling her to continue.

"So? What's that supposed to mean?"

"Most of his money's overseas. He's going to need to have it wired here, then make the withdrawal from his most trusted banks, the only one that allows him to withdraw gobs of money without asking any questions. If I kill the power to the city, it'll freeze the transaction for the money to get here, or for the bank itself to operate. I'll also need one of you guys to be standing literally inside the bank with another blackout exploit to kill the power to their generators in case the bank still tries to come through with the money. I can't kill the generator from here."

"What?" Dave asked. "One of us will be helping you to hack? For starters, we don't _know_ how to. Second, why would any of us want to commit a federal offense?"

"You really want Simon and I to die, don't you?" Valerie asked simply. "We need to stop any money withdrawals that he can use to bribe the police! The bank needs to go 'dark'!"

"Why don't you just hack the bank account instead, like you said you've done before on a small scale for everyone else?" Theodore asked. Getting stared at by everybody in the room only caused him to get self-conscious. "What?"

"No, no, it **is** a good idea," Valerie replied, "but I can't touch overseas money, and up until now I've kept myself discreet. That much money disappearing has to go somewhere, and if anyone investigates, the person that's suddenly millions of dollars richer will end up going to jail. Even if the account just drops to zero and it didn't go to an account, the bank will have to go to an inquiry for losing all of that cash in the first place. I'm not pulling any more innocents into this. As for the power outage, I'm voting that either Dave goes, or two of the kids. It's simple. Just use one of my phones and run my main exploit on it. It'll run for a search for the generators on the network, run an auto-hack and turn it off. Easy!" She hoped that her voice was more confident than she was."Just make sure you wear shades and caps because the person working for Vincent might be there at the time and recognize you."

"As if it wasn't risky enough," Brittany muttered. "I guess we're drawing straws to see who goes…"

"I'll do it," Alvin said suddenly, "because Theodore needs to support Eleanor, and Dave still doesn't even know how to use the camera on his phone."

"Done!" Valerie exclaimed, interrupting Dave before he could make an objection. "It's true, and the person had better be able to run away if anything happens. You're quick, right Alvin?" The chipmunk nodded. "Alright. Dave? You're staying behind the wheel."

"Behind the wheel? The wheel of _what?_ The van that looks like swiss-cheese?" the man asked in exasperation.

"I've got a car, don't worry," the redhead reassured. "You're going to drive everyone in the car to the bank, Alvin hacks the generator to keep their power out and then you'll all go straight to the airport. I'll… ' _get'_ you all some tickets," she said pointedly, hinting that she might be up to some mischief in order to procure the travel receipts. "And I'll be there a little later to drop Simon off with you, and I'll take another flight out of Miami. Easy as pie."

"Nope…" Theodore stated. "I **know** _pie_ , and this is not going to be easy."

"I know, right?" Eleanor agreed. "So many things can go wrong! What if Ravin' Raven already has a lot of money that he's sitting on at his house? And would he really just leave us alone even if we get home? He knows us! It's not as if the whole world doesn't know about us, huh?" she asked sarcastically. "Oh wait… _they do._ And he knows you too! We don't have any guarantees that he'll ever leave us alone. Anyone with access to the internet can find out our address!"

"This plan's got too many holes-"

"This is not going to work…"

"…Gonna fail…"

There were no mixed reactions. Valerie could see that they were all on the same page, agreeing with one another. Who wasn't speaking was listening to the others, already trying to formulate plans of their own to rescue Simon at the exchange. Yet in all these things, Valerie heard the one voice who still wanted to know what she thought.

"Valerie?" Jeanette spoke softly, her voice somehow carrying above the din. "Are you sure that your plan will work?"

The woman was taken by surprise but still found it in herself to answer. "I'm sure," Valerie replied. "We'll get Simon back."

"If you're sure," Jeanette said, her own growing confidence causing her voice to swell, "then I'll go with your plan. Even if no one else agrees with your plan, I'll hack the generator, I'll drive the car, I don't care! I'll do ANYTHING you ask!" Taken aback by the girl's newfound esteem, Valerie nodded. The chipette's attitude had influenced the others as well, allowing for them to draw confidence from her.

"Okay. Let's get started. I"ll get to coding for the power plant to cause the main blackout. Jeanette… or Alvin, whoever is doing the generator-hack, come with me."

"I'll just do it," Alvin mumbled as he got up from his seat to follow the woman.

"Fine." Valerie made an about turn and headed back to her personal room where she kept all of her computers, Alvin close in tow. Once there, she closed the door behind Alvin and walked over to a case in the corner of the room. The chipmunk could see that it had some sort of special purpose for it to be stored like that, and he wasn't disappointed when he saw the woman open it to remove a gun from it.

"You know?" Alvin started, "I think I'm getting used to seeing these things. After getting shot at, and all. Hell, even after how you've been talking to me this afternoon about how coding and weapons are alike-"

"I told you those things for a reason, Alvin, not just because of my nerves," Valerie mumbled. "I know that out of all the others, you're the only guy who can think on his feet and roll with the punches. You adapt easily, and frankly, Jeanette can put up a brave talk but out there on the street, she might hesitate and screw up. Mr. Parkour man," she said easily, "Mr. Never-hesitate…"

"I don't hesitate anymore!" Alvin exclaimed. "I learned all of that the hard way!"

"I know. I told you about coding and about guns because I was counting on you from the start," she said matter-of-factly. "You'll know how to run the Auto-hack. It's basically a step-by-step script. You'll connect to the network you think has the generator and then you'll 'search' for it. After that, you're going to select the generator controls when you find it. After that, select 'Off' or 'Disable', whichever one that shows up on the screen. It's really easy to use these Auto-hack programs I've made. If even a muscle-head like the guy you met on the bridge can use them, then so can you. Are you an idiot, Alvin?"

"No, ma'am!" the chipmunk mock saluted. The task sounded easy enough. The woman had already shown him how it worked earlier whenever she needed to run general hacking exploits without her laptop. "I can do this! Besides… I mastered ' _Snapchat'_ when it was still hard to use."

Valerie grinned at the boy's attempt at humor; she was grateful for it, as her nerves were starting to get to her again. Not to mention, he'd need his own conviction for what was about to follow. "Here comes the hard part," Valerie mumbled gruffly as she gestured the gun. "You saw me reloading it and taking off the safety, but using it is a lot different and harder. You saw Dave this morning. It's a wonder he didn't put a bullet in his own leg. When it comes down to it, you're the only person I can count on to defend your family." She handed the gun to the chipmunk, who took it from her with only the slightest trepidation. "I'm not telling you to kill anyone. Maybe even fire a few warning shots or something. But shooting at someone… I'm gonna be honest… you might end up _doing_ it if the situation goes perfectly _**wrong**_."

"I'm not gonna kill anybody!" Alvin protested. "Maybe… the most I'll do is fire at their feet?" he asked hopefully. "On second thought, I shouldn't take this. I'll do without the gun-"

" **They** are not going to be shooting at your feet, Alvin. They will be aiming everywhere above the feet." She started pointing at Alvin's body parts, working her way up from his stomach. "They'll shoot you in the gut. They'll shoot you in the heart. They'll shoot you in the _face_."

"But-"

"They'll kill you if they get the chance," the woman said quietly. "They'll kill Dave. They'll kill your brothers. They'll kill the Millers. They'll kill _Brittany_." The woman knew that it was low for her to try to instill pre-vengeance in Alvin, but it was worth seeing his expression become steeled and gripping the weapon even tighter in his hands. Pulling out her own gun from out of her jacket, she showed him how to operate the ballistics weapon. "You know how to reload it, right? You saw me earlier. You press your thumb over the magazine release to dump it, then you slide a new one into the 'house', then slam it in. AND not _too_ hard. Then, you pull back the chamber by pushing the gun itself _forward_. It's more reliable and takes less effort."

"I saw you do all of that already-"

"Firing it, though, is different. It's not that hard to pull the trigger. The hard part is keeping the blasted thing steady in your hands. Just keep your arms _almost_ fully stretched so you don't strain yourself."

"So… reloading-"

"Yes." Valerie took out another magazine and gave it to him. "There are at least two dozen people working for him, and it's really easy to miss. Alvin… this isn't a game. You're not going to kill anyone and expect to get away with it."

"Warning shots, Valerie!" the chipmunk insisted, "and I don't even want to use this at all!"

"And I hope that you won't have to. But just like how this isn't a game… you can't come back to life if you get shot to death. If needs be… to keep yourself safe… to keep everyone safe… to keep Brittany safe…" She let the last statement hang in the air. "I hope you understand."

Alvin looked down at the bulky gun and the second magazine in his hands, suddenly far heavier with the gravity of responsibility. "I… do…"

 **=X=X=**

Vincent started to pace in his living room, trying to think of a way out of his situation, but could only think of one. "Damn! She's got me by the balls, Lamar!"

The giant of a man didn't say anything. Like the man he figuratively looked up to, he too was at a loss. He could readily concede that this was a bit of a dire situation; usually, Valerie was the one who'd guaranteed their safety in all that they'd done, and now, she was the one threatening it. Vincent had long been on the rise, bribing his way out of trouble that he could've been implicated in, long before he even knew of Valerie's very existence. Ever since they dug her out of a car wreckage, indebted to them, they'd used her obligated services to procure massive amounts of evidence of police corruption and law-breaking; it plugged the hole in _their_ finances that regular bribery made and even went as far as to keep all of their slates clean in anything even remotely illegal. She was soon ready to back out of their covenant after only a few months but once Vincent had realized that the woman had the potential to keep him 'clean' for life, he presented to her that he had evidence of her first major high-profile crime.

She had to stay. She had to continue. They were now even more than just people with an understanding; they were partners. Of course, they never did have an ounce of trust for one another but they've been doing this for a little over a year. Vincent was more successful in this time period than he'd been for three years put together. He had no intentions of giving this up.

Now, he had no choice. A monkey would keep its hand trapped in a lock-trap just to hold onto its prize, but Vincent knew better. He was no dunce and he knew when to cut his losses.

"Lamar, I'm going to need you to make a withdrawal at the bank. A **big** one. The assistant commissioner is a good friend of mine, and he's a spendaholic. If he gets enough money in front of him, he'll still stay on my side and make sure that no two-bit cops come out here to investigate. No squad cars, no walk-patrols, nothing."

Lamar nodded. "I understand. So I'm going directly to the assistant commissioner's home to drop off the money?"

"Yeah. A lot better than dropping it off at his office!" Vincent said with a laugh. "So I guess you're sitting this firefight out. I'd want you here, but I can't trust anyone else with that much cash without them trying to take a little for themselves," Vincent explained. "We're going to wait on whoever's picking up Simon to come for him; I can bet that Valerie will come for him because she'll want to verify that he's alright. When she does come, we're gonna heat 'em both up." At this, the big man left to make do on his errand, leaving the metal-rapper alone in the room by himself. "She's going to send the evidence to the commissioner," he mumbled, "not the assistant-commie. We might have to kill the commissioner first, just to make sure. After that, the assistant can step up to bat!"

The man began to laugh to himself, sure that his logic was sound. It made sense, he presumed, suddenly at ease with himself. "Why try to keep myself clean when I can be as dirty as I want when the new commissioner himself will be in my backpocket! I should've done this from the start! Valerie is redundant…" His mood was now greater, now feeling confident that his odds were far greater than whatever Valerie would try when she came to pick up Simon. "Oh yes… hell…" He went over to his television, took out a DVD out of an unmarked case and looked at it. It'd been his mainstay of keeping Valerie working for him this long, and it was his final leverage. He'd still use it against her, even she somehow got away. After all, he didn't count his victories in winning… he fought his battles because he loved to see all others lose. "Come on, Valerie. When this is all said and done, we're going to need a bunch of body-bags for you and your pack of rats…"

* * *

 **Done. Everyone's hatching plans, but I have a few surprises. We need a climax, after all. I'm even making some musical scores/themes for anyone who wants to listen to them. It should help to set the mood…? I'll leave links in my profile to where you can find them.**

 **For anyone reading this, thanks for sticking around. I should have another update in exactly a week. I'm kinda itching to wrap up this fic, but I don't want to rush it. Also, yeah, I know you all came mostly to see romance for Alvittany. Adventure comes first, I'm afraid, with mostly friend-shipping between them until now. But I hope that when the fluff happens, you'll all grin like Chesire cats and say…**

" **This was worth two years of my life." (IT'S BEEN THAT** _ **LONG**_ **?!)**

 **I pray for strength and inspiration…**

 **Valete omnes,**

 **MRAY 4TW.**


	35. Chapter 35 (En Passant)

**AATC: Territory**

 **Back in the saddle. After this, goodbye for a bit. I have to update some other fics.**

 **35.**

The weight of the weapon in his right hip pocket was rather light, yet, Alvin felt as if it was trying to weigh him down akin to that of an iron shackle. Recalling Valerie's instructions in his mind on its usage, he already feared that he _would_ have to use it and the outlook, either way, mattered little. He'd end up shooting someone or getting shot _by_ someone, and his imagination kept clouding his better senses.

"To use it or not to use it, that is the question," he mumbled before he began to laugh to himself strangely.

Alvin was noticeably tense, that much was true. Anyone could see it just by his expression on his face. It was apparent to Brittany, especially, who sat next to him in the backseat. "Alvin? Are you alright?"

"Hmm?"Alvin looked at her and saw her worried expression. "If I'm alright? I guess I am. It's not like I'm stressing about committing a **crime**." His last word came out the wrong way; he was already thinking about the gun he was carrying secretly from everybody else, but he could tell that everyone believed that he was talking about _hacking_.

"Oh? You mean about hacking the generator? Valerie taught you about it, right?" Brittany took his hand in hers and stroked it lightly. "Take it easy. You'll do fine. Besides, you're not going to get caught. You even changed your clothes, and you know that no one can really tell us any differently when we're not in our generic colors. Not to mention that Valerie already killed the power to this part of Miami. There aren't any cameras that are going to pick you up."

"Tell me about it," Dave muttered through clenched teeth. "Every stoplight is out and the intersections are getting kind of hectic. It's as if **everyone** thinks they have the right of way." The man sighed in realization when he said this. "I suppose that I thought the same way…"

"What do you mean, Dave?"

"It's just that…" The man tried to breathe deeply in an effort to soothe his nerves. "I never really wanted to come to Miami, but after Ravin' Raven approached us after the concert, he gave me the impression that he was friendly with us, that he's calmed down with his insecurities that's been causing him to antagonize nearly every singer that came from the western side of America. And like a fool, I believed that he was friendly. I should've just pulled out and taken all of you back home. Small steps were better than trying to huge steps all at once. Now, we're paying the price for it… just look at us!" The man yelled suddenly. "We're on the run from a madman, our lives are in danger, Simon's being used as collateral in an exchange and the only person we can trust is a criminal."

He looked down somberly; not one of his passengers dared to interrupt him.

"A few days ago, if you asked me what was the most important thing this week, I would have said that it would be our final concert on Saturday. We would finally have come out of our financial slump. The money for the charities would ensure that anyone would want to sponsor us in the future because of our image. We'd be able to go on tours whenever we felt like it, not just because we were desperate to. Now… If only I could meet myself back then, I'd like to just knock him over the head with a two-by-four so that he'd get some sense."

"Or a concussion," Jeanette said reticently. "Don't beat yourself up, Dave. We know that you care about us, and our safety. This is all _Vincent's_ fault. Justice will soon catch up with him."

"I bet that it will!" Brittany agreed. "But for now, let's just focus on getting to the bank and do what Valerie wants us to do."

"Mmm-hmm." Dave felt the want to speed up with urgency, but the traffic was slow whenever they came close to an intersection, as was the case now. He soon had to come to a stop to avoid crashing into the build-up of cars waiting to enter the four-way intersection. In this stagnant pace, Dave absently wondered if the woman was alright. Granted, she _was_ a criminal after all, even though he was certain that she had some redeemable qualities. She was in the process of saving their necks, and couldn't help but wonder as to why she'd try to do that… at the possible expense of her own. In his new state of worry, he recalled what she'd told him-… she was a socialism expert, and she could read him like a book. She hinted that he was infatuated with her, and Dave could only muse…

Was she making wild guesses, or did he really have feelings for her?

He didn't know. Instead, he chose to check at the time in order to help remind himself of his new responsibility-… take Alvin to the bank for him to carry out his part of the plan, and to ensure that his family was transported safely home. "The exchange for Simon is happening at five pm, right?" A new dreadful niggling thought crept into his mind. "Doesn't that obviously mean that whoever's going to the bank for Vincent will be there long before it happens to get his money and start bribing officials? It's four-thirty pm."

"Crap…" Brittany said in realization. Alvin leaned forward suddenly as he grasped what the man was saying.

"Are you telling me that they could already have the money they want? We need to get to the bank right **now**!"

"That's not going to happen unless our car can fly over everyone else's. These intersections are giving everyone problems. At this rate, we won't arrive at the bank for another… ten to fifteen minutes."Dave guessed as he recalled the directions. "Wait… it shouldn't take Alvin more than just a few minutes to run there. It's close by!"

Alvin's blood already began to pump faster throughout his body. "Run… Run? Of course, I can! Where's the bank?"

"It's around the corner of this intersection we're trying to get to, the one straight ahead. It's called the 'National Tier'. It has a huge sign for it at the front. You can't miss it!" Dave's tone was already growing excited, although it was markedly etched with worry even as he watched Alvin already making his exit from the car. "Alvin… I've never approved of your dangerous running habits. But Alvin… do everything you can to get to the bank as fast as you can! Run. You hear me?! Alvin Seville, RUN!"

Alvin fixed the black beanie hat on his head as he slammed the car door shut. He didn't even answer his father verbally, but seeing his son sprinting off was all the answer Dave wanted. Without even breaking his stride, Alvin weaved around people and leaping over obstacles whenever appropriate. Dave sat watching his son speed along in his unique grace until he was out of sight, so engrossed that he didn't even hear the car door open and shut once again. In fact, he wouldn't have noticed that the car had lost one more passenger until he saw her cross his line of sight.

"…Brittany?" the man asked to himself, not quite knowing how to react.

...

…

…

Alvin allowed himself to pant a bit as he looked for the bank. He soon spied the large sign that Dave told him about, although it was across the street. The street was so busy that cars had come to a standstill due to the power outage affecting the stoplights, allowing the chipmunk to run across easily with minimal care. After vault-sliding over the hood of one of the cars in his straight path, however, he felt the gun press distinctly against his thigh. It made him apprehensive for a moment as he worried that it could go off, although he reminded himself that there was no bullet in the chamber. It was safe.

"Safe," he muttered to himself as he crossed the street. "I hope I don't have to use it. I'm not going to shoot anybody…"

Finally making it across, he slowed to a stop to remove the shades out of his pocket and put them on before walking into the bank. There were a few security guards here and there, and the chipmunk made sure not to even look at any of them too keenly. Following through with Valerie's cautioning to remain conspicuous, he pulled a ticket-stub number and sat down in the waiting area for customer service. He was seamlessly blended in with the other patrons of the bank who had complaints and would avoid being marked by suspicion if he stood around.

"Alright…" Alvin hardened his resolve as he thought about the stake and removed the phone that Valerie gave him. The operating system on it felt rather sophisticated, but he easily recalled the woman's instructions. He was like a script-kiddie, using a hacking exploit that was made to be used easily in a one-size-fits-all package. Pulling up the program, he waited until the phone affixed itself to the bank's network. It took a while, until-

A femme plopped herself down into the chair next to him, nearly scaring him out of his wits. Alvin nearly dropped the phone, thinking that he'd been caught until he saw who it was.

"Brittany?" Alvin hissed in realization. "What the hell are you doing here? Couldn't you wait in the car?"

"I'm glad to see you too," she answered lamely. "You'd better hurry it up. When I came in, I saw that big oaf that nearly threw your ass off the bridge. He looks like he's about to make a withdrawal."

"What?" the chipmunk queried as he stood up to look around. He didn't have to search for long; the mountain of a man was indeed there, standing at the front of the bank. Already, an official was about to lead him away, giving Alvin the feeling that the man was about to secure his money from another room; it was sure to be a **lot** , after all. The big man turned to survey his surroundings, and his eyes rested on Alvin. The chipmunk was sure that his identity was fully disguised, although it did not make the man's gaze any less disturbing. "Oh no." He sat back down in his seat and returned his attention back to the phone. "You're right."

"Of course I'm right. Now make some haste." She looked down at the phone in his hands as he waited for the phone to complete a scan for all of the technological infrastructures on the network. There was quite a bit to sift through-… cameras, automated security doors, keypad locks… and the list went on.

"You didn't answer why you're here."

"Do I need to have a reason? Just think of it as support? Besides, I was worrying that you'd get nervous or something."

Alvin shook his head. "I'm not that nervous. Besides, I can take care of myself. I don't need you to worry about me. But…" He hesitated. "I guess I appreciate the concern. Maybe it's good to have you around in case that gigantic freak recognizes me and tries to throw me off another bridge," he tried to joke, and it helped to calm him down when he heard Brittany's laughter in response. Finally, the scan on the phone was finished and Alvin began to scroll through all of the options it presented. "I can't see 'Generator'. Should I search again?"

"That scan already took too long! It's probably under another name," Brittany suggested. "And hurry it up! We don't have a lot of time, you know!"

"I'm trying. Um… what about 'Back-Up Power'? No, I don't see that. It must be something else."

"Can't you just type-search for it? Try searching for 'Power' or 'Electricity' and see what comes up." Taking her up on her idea, he tried just that. Nothing came up for 'Electricity', although when he searched for the other term, something rang true.

"Hey… what about this? 'Auxiliary Power'. That has to be it, right?"

"Of course it is. What would you do without me, huh? Now turn it off!" she whispered loudly. "Stop wasting time!"

"I'm not." He thumbed the option and saw in the description that it was 'Running'. Without any ado, he pressed the 'Off' option. In a second, the few lights that shone immediately went out, leaving all the patrons and staff in the bank to curse and grumble to themselves.

"Aww, Christ. These rolling blackouts are getting on my nerves!"

"This city's going to hell," another patron complained.

"What happened to the friggin' power! Shouldn't the generator be running whenever the power goes out?" One security guard complained to another.

"You bloke, we were _already_ using the generator. That's what just went out. We're gonna need the tech-nerds to look at it. Either pray for that, or for the original power outage to be sorted out. We'd better go guard the safe. You remember the last time we had a blackout like this; it's we can't budge an inch from there 'till the power's back."

"… Damn power outages. They're leeching my paycheck for nothing."

Already pleased with themselves and bubbling with elation, Alvin and Brittany shared a high-five. "Yeah! Let's go." Already weaving around people in the dim light as best they could, they eagerly went to the glass doors through which the late-afternoon light streamed through. It was a rather convivial-looking exit because of this, and the two made haste to get through it to go outside. Once there, they allowed themselves to breathe easier. "We did it!" Brittany cheered in a loud murmur. "Now let's go!"

Before they could make their leave, however, a large burly hand grabbed Brittany by the shoulder and turned her around with a jerk. "Hey! What're you-" She looked up at her antagonist and saw that it was 'oaf' from the bridge incident who'd nearly killed Alvin twice. In fear, her eyes widened in recognition when she realized who it was. "Oh no…" she breathed.

"Oh yes!" Lamar grunted as he fidgeted the weight of the backpack on his back with his free hand. He looked down at her and Alvin, who was already tensing himself for conflict. "I thought I recognized you. I bet that you two rats were f*ckin' with the power, huh? No different than chewing through wires like the real thing."

"We're not rats, you big dunce! And we didn't do anything to the power!" Alvin lied through his teeth as he stomped up to the man. "Now let her go!"

Instead, Lamar's grip tightened on Brittany's shoulder. Alvin could nearly hear the creaks of stress it caused on her body and faltered, making him all the angrier. The man smirked when he saw the chipmunk's expression, relishing it. "So you're angry, eh? Are you going to kill me? Beat me half to death like you did to the mugger?"

"It's starting to become very _appealing_." Alvin took one more step, yet the man only squeezed all the harder. Brittany kept her pain bottled up, yet Alvin could see from her weak struggling that her hurt was severe.

"You're like a dog," Lamar said matter-of-factly. "Chasing after your goals like a car with no idea how to get them, or what to do when you accomplish it. You expect me to be intimidated by a four-foot tall brat? How about you **make** me let her go?"

Already, Alvin was considering the gun that weighed heavily in his baggy pocket, yet thought it was too much. He took one more step towards them, only find himself knocked to a sprawl from a backhanded blow. "Agghh! Damn it!" He was already getting back on his feet and wondered why no one around them was intervening… no, they were merely minding their own business. A few of the passers-by gave them fleeting glances, but no more. He thought of calling for help, but he and Brittany couldn't risk exposing their identities. The last thing they wanted was for everything to be traced back to them. He approached the man again, this time in a run towards the man. Before he could even come close to strike the man with a fist or perhaps a kick, he was smacked down again, even harder than before.

"I get it. White knight shit!" Lamar exclaimed in disgust as he kept Brittany in his tight grasp. "You think you can save her? Save anyone? That's bullshit." From ever since, he'd found entertainment in casting fantasy drama in reality, and found it repulsive that anyone tried to hold onto their idiotic ideals in a world like his. "You? Save her? I've got some incentive for you, you f*ckin' rat! This one-" He nodded at Brittany, who tried to squirm out of the man's grasp, only to fail as he tightened his grip to increase more pain. "She never did get warned! How many times should someone get warned before you have to take action? I figure…" Lamar continued his line of speech calmly, as if not caring whether Alvin was upset or not. "I guess _five_ warnings are enough. After that, people start to **die**! So… how about I give you some incentive to try and do something serious?"

Reaching beyond his shirt, he withdrew a gun from out of his waistband and braced off the safety by sliding it roughly on his side. He then pointed the pistol at a pedestrian and with a resounding explosion, shot him without a care, not even bothering himself to even look at the man dying in a growing pool of blood at his feet. While everyone started to flee in a screaming panic, the bulky man merely sighed before pointing the gun at Brittany's head, who immediately ceased her struggling for fear of being killed. Lamar looked intently at Alvin, silently daring the chipmunk to react.

In a near-blur, Alvin withdrew the gun from his own pocket and aimed it at the thick of the man's chest. "You've gone too far! Let her go!" In light of this, Brittany was shocked to see that Alvin was armed, but didn't dare to speak. In fear that he'd lose focus, he kept his eyes trained on the man who had her in custody.

"Oh?" Lamar's eyes widened in surprise. "So Valerie gave you a piece, huh? Think you're tough, now? A'right. So shoot me. Shoot me!"

Alvin's face hardened in his fury as he pulled back on the chamber to emphasize how serious he was. "DON'T TEST ME, YOU SON OF A BITCH…!" Alvin growled through clenched teeth. " _LET_ … _HER… GO…_ _ **NOW**_!"

Lamar laughed un-spiritedly. "Heh, my mother _was_ a whore. But do you think you've got control? You don't have the stones." His face lost all of its fake mirth, and it was then that Alvin realized that he was trying to stare down hundreds of pounds of pure muscle. "What're you waiting for? Pull that trigger. But you'd better make sure you kill me with that first shot, 'cause if you don't, I'm going to put two shots in her _f*cking_ skull, then I'm going to empty the rest of the gun in yours. Now shoot me. SHOOT ME!"

Alvin didn't think. He didn't know. He lost all consciousness of himself. All he saw was Brittany being held with a gun pointed securely against her temple. All he heard was the threat that if he fired his gun, Brittany would be killed in reprisal. All he tasted was the iron of blood in his mouth; he'd unintentionally bit the inside of his cheek in worry. All he felt was the cold steel of the gun in his shaking hands as his trembling fingers pressed against the trigger.

All he smelt was his fear clogging his nostrils.

He was afraid.

Struggling to get a hold of himself, he brought up the sights of the gun in hand, his shaking hands bringing it to aim at Lamar's head. If he didn't kill Lamar on his first shot, he'd kill Brittany, then Alvin himself. But if he didn't shoot Lamar, who could say that the man wouldn't kill them both anyway?

Alvin glanced around. There was no one around. No help would be coming. None.

The chipmunk's finger pressed harder on the trigger. He was mere centimeters away from becoming a killer. A murderer.

"Shoot me, you f*ckin' RAT! SHOOT!"

Alvin gulped. "Just… let… her… go." His bravado had left him, leaving him a shell of who he once was. Where had the red Seville gone? Mr. Never-Hesitate? Didn't he choose this path? Wasn't he selected because he could do this? To do this? Did Valerie trust the wrong person?

 _If needs be… To keep yourself safe… To keep everyone safe… To keep Brittany safe… I hope you understand._

… _I do._

Brittany was crying.

"SHOOT ME!"

The gun dropped out of Alvin's loose fingers, clattering onto the concrete of the sidewalk with finality. The chipmunk fell to his knees in like, as did the hot tears from his own face. "No… just let her… go… _please_ …" His bawling only served to disgust his oppressor, and the man pointed his own gun at Alvin instead.

"I don't care for your sniveling," Lamar said coldly as his finger started to pull the trigger. "You should've shot me when you had the chance."

Everything happened at once.

"Get away from MY KIDS!" Dave yelled in anger as he swung a steering-wheel lock at the hefty antagonist. "Graawwr!" A sudden deck into the man's upper back caused his aim to go off target, sending the bullet to bite into the concrete next to Alvin. Another one sent his gun flying out of his grasp; Brittany capitalized on the moment and fled from her captor.

"Agh! Motherf*cker-" Dave didn't relent at the man's cried as he pummeled him again. "You piece o' shit!" Bearing through the pain, Lamar blocked Dave's strike and smashed his fist into his nose. Dave squealed his hurt before Lamar, an expert at street-fighting, brought his fist upwards into Dave's gut, knocking the wind out of him. The weakened family-man fell to his knees, wheezing. "You, again? I thought you'd be smarter than that!"

"Leave Dave alone!" Theodore yelled as he ran up to the man, grabbing onto his arms. In no less, Jeanette and Eleanor likewise flung themselves against Lamar, who only grew angrier at their fruitless efforts. He swatted one, fisted another and walloped the last, sending them flying off.

"Just sit down and wait your turn," the man glowered before continuing his onslaught on Dave. Kicking here, punching there, smashing his knuckles into the man's cheeks and rabbit punching his ribs, Dave was almost at the end of his rope as Lamar continued to beat him to death. His blood was smeared over Lamar's knuckles, his bones were broken, yet Dave's spirit continued to flag.

"Stay… away… from… my kids." Dave whispered weakly. He could barely muster anymore; his innards felt busted.

"You and your whole family are gonna die, you bumblef*ck. You came all the way out of your rat hole to die for nothing." Kicking aside Eleanor who was in his way, he dragged Dave with him until he got to where his gun was and picked it up. Brittany, despite her fears, tried to deter the man-mountain from killing Dave and only got cracked against her head with the butt end of the gun for her efforts.

With a shriek of pain, she was knocked backwards. Leaning up in a daze as blood ran down from the side of her face, her eyes widened as she looked up at the furious man.

"You just love running interference, don't you? Doing the same thing over and over only gets the same result… you only serve to piss me off." With his final take said, he aimed the gun at Dave and pulled the trigger. In a sudden explosion, foreign metal drilled into Dave and as if the man was garbage, Lamar dropped him to the sidewalk that began to run red with his blood. Tears ran down Alvin's cheeks as Dave seemed to reach out to him, his name barely being whispered over blood-creviced lips.

"… _Alvin_ …"

The chipmunk couldn't bring himself to move as he watched his father bleed out over the ground. The Seville's breath ran ragged as tears ran afresh down his cheeks. His eyes fell on the gun before him; the weapon's brother had shot down Dave and here it was, enticing him to take action.

Alvin still couldn't bring himself to move.

"That's the price of ignorance," Lamar grunted as he looked down at Dave before coughing up phlegm to spit onto the fallen man. He then turned to Brittany, who still barely had her consciousness after her dizzying hit. Her fear grew when she saw that the man was aiming his gun at her, realizing that she was about to be killed. "And you still need to pay yours."

Lamar was always content with his theatrical air, always one with finesse whenever he carried out his work. In that same vein, however, he knew that he wasting too much time. Enough had been said.

Relishing the look of terror in her ice-blue eyes, he aimed his gun right between them and pulled the trigger. The hammer found the shell; a beautiful flame blossomed on the stalk of the barrel and hell followed in the wake of the bullet.

Alvin cried.


	36. Chapter 36 (Zwischenzug)

**AATC**

 **It's been so long.** _ **Es tut mir leid.**_

 _ **(Note: The recent titles of the chapters are related to chess moves. If you know/learn the meaning, you'd see how deeply they tie in with the plotline presented in the chapter.**_

 _ **Also, I'm in the habit of making musical scores and instrumentals. There's a firefight score for this chapter as well. The link is in my profile, and I'd recommend listening to it while you read. You don't have to, of course, but anyways, enjoy the chapter as you see fit.**_

 _ **The link is titled 'BreakDown'.)**_

 **36.**

It was quiet. A mosquito buzzed incessantly nearby and was soon swatted as soon as it settled on his arm. Afterwards, Vincent almost thought that he regretted killing the pest-… the presence of 'white' noise was somewhat reassuring and helped to fill the silence.

The unbearable silence.

It was times like these that he hated being alone with his thoughts. Not lonely, per se, as he was flanked by almost a dozen of his compatriots at his sides, but rather being stuck inside his own head. He was a rapper, sure, but not because there wasn't anything else he couldn't do like certain 'unprivileged' people of his own race, but because it was what he was good at. Unlike his adoptive brother, he was the smarter of the two, even more so, he was the most clever person he knew.

Why need book-learning when all he needed was street-smarts and how to manage his life like a professional poker gambler?

Out-think his opponents, raising the stakes beyond their wallets, tide over his risks perfectly and knowing when to call when he was at his limit.

Realizing when to fold when he could not win.

But could he win this gamble, he wondered.

Well, it could've been worse. He could be like Simon who was basically like a poker chip, who had at least four guns aiming at him instead of being a player of the gamble. Simon himself probably knew; Vincent could see the chipmunk trembling uncontrollably as he stood by the streetlight by his lonesome. There were no vehicles, a few pedestrians walked by, sure, but they minded their own business as they were all in a hurry to get home before dark, as the power was still out.

"Alright. We all know what this bitch wants," Vincent said just loudly enough for his cohorts to hear him, "she wants the rat 'cross the street alive and intact. Obviously, this means that she likes the whole lot of 'em. Anyone got any guesses where the rest are?"

"Maybe they're laying low, somewhere. Do you know where she lives?"

"She doesn't really 'live' anywhere I know," Vincent answered to the question, "because she's always moving around without me knowing. But I'm willing to entertain any guesses where someone like her would stay at a time like this. A slum? An apartment in a high-rise?"

"What about another hotel?" Another hoodlum suggested. "Nah, forget it. Maybe we should just wait until we find some social media message about someone spotting the brats."

"They could be wearing disguises-…" another one started to say before he was interrupted.

"Shhh…! Look!" As it so happened, a car was coming along, but it began to slow as it approached the 'munk standing by the curb. It was a taxi cab, and right away, Vincent decided that he didn't like it. "If the rat decides to grow a brain and gets in, light up the taxi, y'all hear me?"

"I hear you." They all watched as the taxi paused by the chipmunk, blocking off their view from where they hid in a closed shop they'd broken into. However, the chipmunk didn't get inside the taxi, and the taxi soon drove off, searching for another fare. "F*cker's got sense. Taxi-man's lucky too."

"We can blast on everyone who gets involved, right? After all, Lamar's gonna bribe the deputy-commissioner. And in case Valerie still gives up evidence on what we've done to the high commissioner of police, then we take _him_ out?"

"That's right," Ravin' Raven replied.

"It's kinda getting to me, man," his cousin said nervously. "We ain't cop killers. If we get caught, they're gonna make our lives hell in prison, and that's if we don't go straight to the electric chair. To kill the commissioner himself? That's suicide."

"You wanna keep ol' Simon's company? Shut the hell up and grow some balls!" the rap-metal singer rebuked. "You're already involved up to the neck, so you might as well keep going on."

"Maybe it's better to stop before it reaches over my head and I drown," the cousin said lowly. The others who were with Vincent tended to agree with him, though they kept it to themselves. Caught between a rock and hard place, they just did what they did best, and that was work for their cash earned. However, one of the men just placed his gun back into his waistband and hid it beneath his shirt, before walking out, never to return.

"Damned coward," Vincent muttered. "Anyone else want to leave? Just make sure I don't _ever_ see your faces again, or I'll shoot you in it! _Capisce_?"

Two more men left as soon as he gave the warning. The exodus continued until only six of them remained, and although Vincent's cousin would've liked to leave, he was sure that the rapper would've just killed him right then and there, so he stayed put. Post this, they continued to watch as another taxi came along the route and stopped by Simon, the driver assuming that he was waiting there for a cab, but soon drove off again as the chipmunk seemingly refused. This happened a few minutes later, but by now, they'd all relaxed.

"It's annoying, that's what it is."

They lapsed into silence again, watching and waiting. It was soon that Vincent thought about the taxis' regular occurrence that he soon realized what was going on.

"She's doing this to make us feel uncomfortable. She said that she was sending a taxi to pick him up, didn't she? At five pm…" Vincent checked his watch and saw that it was almost the hour for the deadline. "The next taxi that comes won't be the right one, either, but I could be wrong. I bet she wants us to shoot at the civvie taxi by mistake so that people will raise an alarm. But you can be sure that she'll come for him herself."

"So she won't come in a taxi? She's a red-head, ain't she? We just need to see if she comes for him."

"If you see a redheaded woman, it might not be her," the singer assured. "She's always dyeing her hair. Check to see if any woman comes along acting suspiciously. If they look focused on the kid, blast on the two of 'em."

It was almost five pm.

…

Valerie wondered if her tactic was working.

Her bit of a displacement idea in which multiple taxis would halt briefly by Simon before driving off would make them more uncomfortable, a way to make Vincent doubt as to whether or not to actually open fire on any vehicle that Simon entered. She had the inclination that she should still send a taxi for the chipmunk as she had planned, but hesitated as she had no idea how it'd work out. She didn't know what or how Vincent was thinking, so she had to be careful.

She had to be careful.

She had to be _very_ careful.

Valerie paused to take deep breaths, inhaling and exhaling all before her nerves relaxed. Her phone was still in her pocket. Her cap was still fastened over her head, hiding her trimmed fiery hair. Her gun was fully loaded, and weighed heavily inside a small shoulder handbag… no one would suspect her of about to trade gunfire, although her face probably looked like she was a lamb about to be slaughtered.

With that thought, her nervousness grew again. 'Easy, Val, easy.' Valerie sighed. In any case, she'd best be prepared for the worst. By preparing for the worst possible eventuality, her mind should be calmed… right? Before she could ponder any more on this, she noticed a lone man walking out of a shop (further up the street) and made his way down towards her, passing by where she was seated at a café's outside table. It was one of the thugs that tended to associate with Ravin' Raven; Valerie recognized him instantly, and hurriedly looked down to allow the brim of her cap to shadow her face to prevent him from identifying her. 'Where's he going?' she asked lowly to herself as soon as he was gone.

Before she could come to the decision to tail him, she recognized a few more that trailed after him, around five or six of them, all of which made their exodus from the shop in the first place. Her brain hard at work, she knew that they were six of the dozen men that Vincent usually hired to help him with his dirtier work, and it was safe to assume that the rest of them were inside the shop, watching where Simon was across the street.

This was a dirty move. She'd believed that they would have been inside Vincent's property which was behind Simon, not in front of him from across the road hiding inside the shop. It made sense, though, to watch him from a place that not only had a good vantage point but was an undisturbed location inside of a shop that was closed down because of a lack of business. Why the men were leaving was beyond her, but it was easy to figure that the rest were still there, and most likely armed and aiming at Simon and whoever came for him; that is, her. Anyone who so much as touched Simon's shoulder would end up dying with him by what could be called a firing squad.

Valerie's heart fell with the realization as she got up from her seat and hailed for a taxi, getting inside when it stopped for her. Her chances had gone from slim to none in a matter of minutes, never mind the fact that her enemies had lost a portion of their numbers. All of a sudden, she felt weak, lost. Why was she here? Was the sweat she'd exerted not enough? The tears that she'd shed… weren't they enough?

Was the blood that was spilled not enough?

The blood…

No… it was because of the blood, all of that blood, why she was in debt. It was because of the blood why she was still in debt. It was because of all the blood that still hadn't been cleaned… why she could never get out of her debt.

Valerie was prepared-… not to escape with her life, but to pay with her life.

It was the only way for her debts to be paid in full.

It was almost five pm.

"Where to, ma'am?" The taxi driver asked the woman seated in the backseat. He couldn't say that he hadn't seen passengers of her kind before; the type of people who didn't really know where they were going.

"Just a short drive to hell," Valerie mumbled to him lowly. "You see that guy over there dressed in blue?" she asked as she pointed past him at the chipmunk up the road. "We're going to the same place."

"Hell? You're both going there?" the cab driver asked in good humor. "That's going to be a tall fee. I might not have enough gas to make it there." He peered at her in the rearview mirror, noting how crestfallen she looked. "You're not… suicidal or anything, are you?" the cab driver asked lowly. "You've got the look of a few people who rode in my cab a few times, only for me to go home and see them on the news 'cause they committed suicide."

"Don't worry, I'm not suicidal."

"Good. All of us are going to die one day, and we're the lucky ones because _**we**_ were all born. Millions of sperms, tons of eggs, loads of chances for our parents to create children, and yet WE were born. Another child could've been born… maybe instead of my parents raising a cabbie for a son, they could've had a scientist. And your parents could've had doctor instead of you. We all got a purpose and life, and we shouldn't be trying to shorten the precious lives we have by dying sooner than our time."

"Death is still a certainty. We should be prepared to die one day," Valerie argued, not wanting to listen to the driver's sage advice, yet still found herself doing so.

"Why not prepare to live?"

It was almost five pm.

 **...**

Simon stood alone by the streetlight. It wasn't on, but there was enough daylight to see the six men still standing in the abandoned shop across the street, all of them armed. Some had handguns, but a few others had what he believed were rifles. Whether not they were automatic, he didn't know, but every single weapon was aimed at him.

At this time, he was more confused than frightened, a fact that surprised himself. For the past fifteen minutes, taxi cabs kept stopping by where he was standing on the sidewalk, but they kept moving on before he could even say a word to the drivers or vice versa. It befuddled him, and his uncertainty only increased as he wondered if this was Valerie's doing.

"Valerie…" he grumbled as he gritted his teeth. "Now, I know; Vincent told me… He showed me! I know everything about what you're doing. What you've done… Why you did it… and when this all started..."

Point for information, but it was an overall loss if he was going to die, anyway. He didn't have his phone with the video evidence he had captured with its camera, no money, a poor sense of physicality to even hope to run to make an escape-… all he really had were the clothes on his back. Licking his dry lips in trepidation, he looked down at his watch and read the digital display. It was almost five pm, and the seconds were ticking away. He'd heard from the rap-metal singer that Valerie was coming to fetch him at five pm, but she was still a no-show.

Would she actually come after all? She really didn't have a reason to. With this thought, Simon's fear rose again, despite his attempts to quell it. But before it could get any worse, he heard his watch sound out several beeps, five in total.

It was five pm.

Immediately, a taxi-… yet another one, Simon thought…- showed up, pulling to a stop before him. He was at first of the inclination that this was going to be a repeat incident of the bogus taxis of earlier, but this was not to be.

Valerie was seated in the backseat.

She opened the passenger door to him, beckoning to him to enter. "C'mon, Simon, get inside." Before he could say or do anything in response, however, Valerie made the mistake of glancing across the street to the left where she knew Ravin' Raven's men were hiding in the abandoned shop… and met Vincent's eyes.

"There's the bitch!" he yelled at the top of his lungs as he wildly opened the storefront's tinted windows to allow himself and his cronies to shoot without obstruction. "Mow 'em all down!"

With the crass yell, Ravin' Raven aimed his handgun and fired the first shot. Valerie was already throwing herself low out of the taxi away from the gunfire and towards where Simon was standing; immediately following, bullets stormed the car, wreaking their terrible havoc everywhere. Amidst the spilling of blood, screams, yells and the smashing of glass was heard supreme with the explosions of guns, but the steady flurry of bullets kept coming as Ravin' Raven and his men kept pulling their triggers until their magazines emptied and their chambers cycled to a stop. Before they could prep themselves, Valerie stepped out from behind the car, and her gun blazed her own retribution.

Vincent's eyes widened as he realized that she was aiming for him, and threw himself to the ground, hiding behind the low wall of the storefront's windows, barely avoiding her gunshots. Not deterred, however, her next few shots found the man who was foolish to stand too close to Vincent's location. The bullets were unforgiving as they bored into his chest, sending him sprawling to the floor. Firing again, a few shots missed as her targets moved, but the subsequent one flew right through the cousin's neck. He screamed in agony, already fearing his sure death as blood ran freely from his neck despite his own clutches at his neck in an attempt to stop the bleeding. Vincent could only watch as his cousin fell to the floor in a puddle of his own life-liquid, finally bleeding out in death with his eyes open. The singer swore vehemently to himself, but Valerie fired her combat pistol again; the .45 bullet smashed its way through the teeth of another man, blood, and gore exiting on the other side of his head. Like the other two men that the hacker had just killed, he fell to the floor and never moved again.

"F*ck!" Ravin' Raven cursed as he finished reloading his gun again. Springing up from his hiding place, he pulled the trigger on his Glock, three bullets thumping into the woman's chest. Seemingly remembering her own mortality, Valerie turned tail and dove back behind the bullet-riddled taxi to where Simon was. "You feel those bullets, BITCH!" Vincent bellowed, continuing to fire his weapon. "YOU FEEL THEM?!"

"Up yours!" Valerie shouted back from her hiding spot as she reloaded her own pistol. Slamming home the magazine, she thumbed off the safety and hoped against hope that she'd still be able to take down the sociopathic rap-metal singer before he ended _her_. The flame had been a low flame at first, but now, it was tempted to burn brighter, and Valerie allowed herself a tiny smile. Recalling what the cab driver had tried to advise her, her smile grew a little brighter and called out to him. "Oi, cabbie…! Thanks for the advice, eh?"

Hearing no answer, she called again, before realizing that he had been inside the car when the shooting had started. Already knowing the answer to her dread, she hesitated to look inside the car but did anyway. The woman nearly retched when she looked at the driver's seat; blood was flowing freely from his bullet-riddled body, and brain matter was all over the dashboard where his head had slumped. She didn't know the man well, heck, she didn't even know him for five minutes, but she still felt the loss. Was he prepared to die, she wondered as she dropped back down again behind the car next to Simon. 'And what about me? Am _**I**_ prepared to die? Or am I prepared to live…? I want to LIVE! Isn't that the same thing?' Looking down at Simon who seemed frighteningly calm, her mind wandered she considered what he was going through, trying to find some sort of anchor or any sort of leverage to help her own self to calm down.

"Are you all right? Are you injured anywhere?"

"You're a killer." He said calmly, almost scarily even.

"What? A killer?" the hacker parroted lamely. "I'm trying to save our asses-"

"That's not what I mean. But I've been thinking. It's all your fault to begin with… why we're even here. Why we're broke… why Jeanette and the other chipettes are emotionally scarred…" Simon's eyes narrowed, but he never even flinched as guns blazed again from across the street, ripping into the taxi through the windows and the doors and starting to chew through the final doors to hurt the pair hiding behind it. Despite the gunfire, her own adrenaline and the heat of the moment, Simon was still horribly tranquil and stable as he looked at the woman accusatorily. "Why they don't have a mother anymore… why Ms. Miller is _**dead**_ …"

Valerie's heart raced, skipping over multiple beats at a time. "Oh my God... You've seen the blackmail that Vincent has on me…?"

"I have. I suspected that you were the hacker ever since I startled you and caught you using Kali, a notorious software abused by hackers." Some of his speech was lost over the din of gunfire, but the woman heard him very well despite this; her only wounds came from his words. "You're a hacker… but I never would have suspected that you're a killer on top of everything else."

A tear welled up in her eye and burned her cheek as it fell. "It was an accident…" she whispered as if she was about to break, "and I was afraid…" Trying to find the will to continue, she peeked her gun from around the car and aimed it at a goon inside the store to fire at him, but her shots went wild as her hand shook in her anguish. All she got for her troubles was a bullet to her free shoulder; the bullet ate into her flesh and settled inside of it unwelcomed, yet she barely felt it-… her heart hurt more. Simon felt no pity for her despite seeing that she had been wounded. He wasn't being malicious, or vengeful. He thought of it as justice.

Well deserved justice.

"But you tried to hide away from it. And you decided to work with Vincent and cover up his dirty work. He's been killing and hurting people so much, for _so long_. The perfect crime is to see a crime being committed and doing nothing to help the person who needed it. Vincent might have committed the perfect crime of seeing you kill Ms. Miller and doing nothing to help the others in the crash, but you Valerie… you were the _perfect criminal_."

"I've tried to make it right!" Valerie shouted at him. "You're all still alive, aren't you?!"

"We wouldn't be here if it weren't for you."

"You ungrateful…" she tried to turn her sadness, her regret, her misery into anger, but found it hard to when she knew that he was right. "I'm… sorry." The tears ran harder now. "I'm so sorry. I wish that there was something that I could do to make it right… but this is all I can do. All that I can do is try my best to get you safely back to your family. That's what I want. That's what they want. That's what Jeanette wants, and I promised her that I would. I intend to fulfill that promise!"

There was a lull of gunfire, but before Simon and Valerie could even think of fleeing in the car or on foot, Vincent took up one of the automatic rifles that one of his fallen men had dropped, reloaded it with a fresh clip and opened fire. The bullets ripped through the seating areas of the car easily, hitting Valerie in the back. They didn't penetrate the (small arms) bullet-proof vest she had on thanks to the fact that they had to punch through the car doors to get to her, but they still hurt her severely. Realizing that the danger level had not fallen, they were forced to hide behind the engine area of the car to ensure that no more of the gunshots didn't hit them, thanks to being stopped by the thick solid metal of the engine.

"We can't stay here!" Valerie exclaimed.

"But if we try to move from here, they'll kill us!" Simon yelled back. He still didn't feel all that better, but he'd lost his calmer presence of mind. "What do we do?"

"I keep shooting, and you figure out what we should do!" Valerie bellowed, trying to make herself heard over the noise. She tried to blind-fire at the store without exposing her head to look, but it was only a tactic to ensure that the men inside the store stayed there in fear of being shot. It wasn't working, as Vincent kept firing at the car while his last two men slowly approached the car in flanks. "This isn't gonna work. I'm almost out of ammo, and they're going to get to us to gun us down. "Damned special cops… they were supposed to be here by now…"

"The police?" Simon asked in confusion, recalling the day before when Dave had tipped off the police and they came to 'rescue' him from Ravin' Raven, only to be bought off by the man. "They're corrupt. Besides, they-"

"Not the local police department. I mean the ones that Vincent can't buy off, the ones that he can't corrupt, no matter how much money he has. But I had to turn over evidence that burns me as badly as Vincent himself, just to get them to come. They should've been here by now, but I know they will. We need to stall for them to get here."

"Stall? Why didn't you stall for them to show up before you came for me?!" Simon hissed in frustration. "Doesn't that make more sense?"

"I did, but it was getting too late. I was trying to throw off Vincent by sending all those dummy taxis, but he didn't fall for it. It was obvious that he was going to wait for me to show up, and he knows that I've never been late for anything in my life. I'm either on time, or I don't show up. If I was late, he'd have just shot you and be done with it… a pity that I didn't think of calling the Federals sooner, though. But we can't do anything about it, now."

"WHAT?! But how's that relevant-…" Simon fell silent as the woman placed her gun in her lap to start removing her bloodstained blouse, revealing her sleek bulletproof vest underneath. "What are you doing?"

"I'm making sure that I fulfill that promise to Jeanette. You're getting back home _safe_."

"How's that gonna happen?"

…

Unaware of what was going on, Vincent ceased firing the rifle as it ran dry. Picking up his Glock once more, he kept the heat on by continuing to fire, well aware that had had the ammo for it to spare. He kept firing right at the location where he knew the two were hiding, keeping them cowed into hiding while his last two men approached the car from both sides. Soon, they'd flank around the front and the back, and surprise the two little pests who were hiding away from view.

"Get ready to die, bitch…" Vincent murmured as he finally exited the store to move towards the car as well. "Then I can finally be done with all this…"

This was not to be, as Valerie sprung up from her location, swinging to point her gun as how she'd point a finger. The man closest to her who stood by the front of the car was caught by surprise and was the first to get shot as she pulled the trigger. The hard, unforgiving bullets stopped his heart, making him collapse, but the man who was standing by the trunk of the car was still in her blind spot, and fired twice, hitting her in the back.

"Aagggghhh!" Valerie fell to her knees, her red life seeping from her through her wounds. Before she could bleed out and become too weak, she swung her hand to aim again at the last thug, and before he could fire again, she pulled the trigger for what would be the last time, and the bullets took him in the center mass and his collar, knocking him flat. "Ogghhhh…. Damn it all! Simon, run! Run, DAMN IT!"

Before Vincent could even react, Simon, fully clad in the woman's bulletproof vest, took off in a run as fast as he could manage. Not wanting him to escape, the singer shot at him; besides for the shots that went wide and missed the fleeing chipmunk, a few slammed into his back and knocked the wind out of him. He didn't stop running, however, and the remaining shots that Vincent attempted whizzed uselessly past Simon's head and legs, and the chipmunk was soon gone out of sight.

"F*ck!" Vincent cursed lowly to himself. "Shit… I'll get him later." He carefully drew near the car where he'd seen Valerie last, only to find her on the ground, slumped against the side of the car. He didn't lower his weapon, though, despite seeing that she was on her last legs and her empty pistol lying aside. "So you tapped out, huh?" He looked up the street from where Simon had fled, but still saw no trace of him. "Well, I guess he's gone. But one rat's as good as another. What, were you thinking of running with him?"

"F…f*ck you…" Valerie growled poisonously.

"That's not a nice thing to say, Valerie." The singer brought his gun down to aim at her legs, and fired off a shot into one of her legs, ignoring her cries of pain. Without even missing a beat, he fired two more rounds into her other leg, almost sadistically relishing her screams. "Not gonna run now, are you? Empty gun? What good are you now? What GOOD are you to those rat singers, huh? Are they special enough to you for you to slip up like this?!"

"No…" Valerie grunted as she tried to keep her mind from slipping away from her. She'd been close to death before, and it was only the experience of that pain that kept her from succumbing entirely. "It's just that they sing _a lot better than you_ …"

Vincent fumed silently as he heard that-… losing his patience, he brought up his gun again and fired… and fired… and fired… he kept on until his gun was emptied of all ammunition. Astonishingly, despite her numerous gunshot wounds all over her body, the woman was still alive… but barely. Vincent shrugged as noted this fact figuring that she'd just bleed out. "You… done…?" the woman asked, before a glob of blood welled up in her throat, slightly choking her. Spitting out the globule between her words, she continued. "You saved this ungrateful life of mine… and now what? You've… *choke* taken it back?"

"Damn right I have."

"You can't take…" Valerie coughed, trying to keep her internal bleeding out of her speech. You can't take… what's not yours."

"You gonna stop me? Your gun is done and you're done. You're only a f*ckin' corpse who's mouth is still running for what? A few more minutes?"

"My most powerful weapon?" the woman asked with a slight chuckle. "It's not… my gun… it's technology…. and I fired that weapon already. You're the one who's done…" As if on cue, SUVs began roaring in on the street from both directions, great in size and number. One of the vehicles had a large vinyl on the hood that read 'F.B.I.'. "Huh… they finally made it…"

Vincent looked up in surprise as he saw the vehicles begin to converge on their location, penning him in. "YOU CALLED THE F*CKING FEDS?!" the man yelled in anger. "ARE YOU CRAZY?! They'll take the both of us in!"

Valerie chuckled to herself lowly. "They're taking **YOU**. Can't bribe 'em… huh? I figured that my number was up… so I was all right with giving them all the evidence on the both of us…" the redhead coughed harrowingly, feeling her life slipping away from her. She looked down at her hands, noting how they were coated in bloody scarlet and cringed, knowing that it was her own blood that had been bleeding freely from her, even her white blouse was now nearly completely red. Glancing aside at the sunset, she looked up and realized that the streetlight she was close to hadn't turned on. 'Oh yeah… I forgot that I killed the lights. I don't like the dark…' Slowly and as best as she could, she reached her bloodied hand into her pocket, despite the tremendous pain and stress, and retrieved her cell phone. Through her blurring vision, she thumbed at hacking exploit and turned the city's power on once more. The light suddenly began radiating from the streetlight, and shone down on them both, even as the men from the F.B.I. were accosting Vincent to drop his weapon as they moved in to arrest him.

"This ain't happening!" Vincent began to rant about how he was an innocent and how he was being set up, but Valerie didn't care. She smiled faintly to herself and wondered if anyone would testify against the man… it mattered little… her automated exploits were already running, as all of the screen billboards in the city began to play video footage from hacked cameras, showcasing the endless crimes committed by Ravin' Raven and his people, all in a way that no one could deny. Yet, her mind wasn't on this. Instead, as her consciousness fled, she thought of the children… the chipmunks and the chipettes… how were they?

"I hope they're all right… They'll soon be home… Alvin… Brittany… Simon… Jeanette… Theodore… Eleanor… would I have been forgiven...?" Her eyes lidded gently, her last sight being that of the sun finally about to crash into the sea. "I wonder… if they know how much I loved them… as if they were my own…"

It didn't matter. What mattered was that they were all safe. She had repaid all of her debts... in full.

The woman sighed-... she was so _tired._ With that concluding thought, Valerie allowed herself to rest.


	37. Chapter 37 (Sacrifice)

**AATC: Territory**

 **Been a while. In any case, I'm pushing a large amount of updates to all my fics in a spree, including posting a couple more stories to celebrate my Mega-Versary, for writing a MILLION words. It's been three years since I started, and I've never regretted coming to write fics on this site, not for a second. Thank you for your support, and enjoy.**

 **~ M. Ray 4 The Win.**

 **Suggested Musical Score: By The Wayside.**

 **(Link to SoundCloud is in my profile)**

 **37.**

Blood was running down the side of her head, but Brittany felt nothing but fear corrode her entire being as she slumped on her knees, looking up at the man who was aiming his gun right at her, poised to send her to oblivion. In that single second, memories flowed through her mind like a cinematic reel. From ever since she was younger, everything right up until now.

There was red.

They had been friends for the longest while. There was red.

They had become enemies. There was red.

Ms. Miller died in the car crash. There was red.

Brittany had become miserable, depressed, suicidal. There was red.

He made her happy again. There was red.

They had to come on tour. There was red.

They had fun in Pennsylvania. There was red.

They ran together in Virginia. There was red.

They danced the night away here in Miami. There was red.

She flew…

There was red.

He had saved her life, and she had saved his.

There was red.

They had fellowship: they ate together, slept together, dated, did everything together.

There was RED!

They had grown closer.

There… was… red…

It was with a sudden growing regret that began to hurt, deep within her chest. In the longest second as Brittany glanced aside to see the Alvin who she'd been knocked next to, she realized that in all these things, she'd fallen in love with him… and had _never_ told him. Not even once.

She began to weep. Not for herself. Not because she was about to die. She wept because she had never told him.

Everything was done now. It was all at an end, and Brittany clenched her eyes.

" _If needs be… to keep yourself safe… to keep everyone safe… to keep Brittany safe… I hope you understand."_

The sound of a gunshot explosion reverberated around the area, making everyone wince away in shock, Brittany included. That's when realization struck her.

She wasn't dead. In that longest second, she still had her eyes closed, but the sound of a lone tear hitting the pavement found its way to her ear. Slowly, still in fear, she felt all over her body to check herself if she'd been shot, but felt no pain. There was no pain.

'I'm not… dead…!'

She wasn't.

Finally, ice-blue eyes re-opened. There was some sort of obstacle in front of her, blocking out the low glare of the setting sun. It took another moment for her to grasp the fact that Alvin was standing before her, his gun in his hand. Hidden from her sight but not from her hearing, another tear fell from his eyes and dripped down to the ground, and soon, a drop of blood followed it there. It caught her eye, and Brittany could only stare at the ground below the Seville, seeing the drops of blood continuing to fall. Then another. Then another.

" _If needs be… to keep yourself safe… to keep everyone safe… to keep Brittany safe… I hope you understand."_

She couldn't see him very clearly, but she could picture him crying. But the bleeding, why was there blood dripping-

Alvin had taken the shot for _her_.

His grieving slowly began to change into anger, a primal rage, and Alvin lamented like a wounded animal as the words continued to bounce around his head. Everyone was taken aback by the red Seville who stood defiant, despite his turmoil. Even Lamar took a step backwards in surprise.

" _If needs be… to keep yourself safe… to keep everyone safe… to keep Brittany safe… I hope you understand."_

The gun felt balanced in his hand and cool to the touch. The weapon was still dormant from lack of use, its dangerous power waiting to be unlocked by his will.

" _If needs be… to keep yourself safe… to keep everyone safe… to keep Brittany safe… I hope you understand."_

"… **I… DO!** **NNAGGGHHHH!** " Alvin roared at the top of his lungs, actually frightening Lamar and even alarming his own family. Rage, grief, insanity, and adrenaline surged through the chipmunk's veins, and before Lamar could react and to fire his pistol again, Alvin pulled the trigger of his own gun. A single .45 round found its way to the man's gut, knocking his aim wide. The following ones were shot wildly by the Seville, embedding themselves all over Lamar's body. The shots were fired so quickly that it was one long continuous noise, and the ten bullets ran dry quickly. Lamar coughed up a deluge of blood that splattered the ground, before toppling backwards in a sprawl.

Yelling his fury again, Alvin didn't stop. In his frenzy, his thumb found the magazine-release button and allowed the empty clip to slide out of the gun while nearly ripping out the fresh clip out of his pants pocket. In the next split second, he slammed it home and yanked back on the chamber to finish reloading his gun, striding quickly to Lamar's side as if to put the man out of his misery. All around him, Brittany, Theodore, Eleanor, and Jeanette were shouting for him to stop, but he didn't listen. Yet still, he didn't follow through with what he'd intended, and it wasn't because his loved ones wanted him to desist. His forgotten injury was suddenly remembered, and brought the vengeful chipmunk to his knees; the gun spilled from lax fingers and clattered to the sidewalk before Alvin himself collapsed in a heap.

"ALVIN!" Brittany screamed, dashing to the fallen chipmunk's side. Already fretting over him, her nightmares were already a reality as she saw that he was wounded; his shirt was slowly but surely becoming his favorite color in the worst way possible. "Alvin, are you-"

The chipmunk grinned weakly. "It doesn't matter… are you all right…?"

It was all she could take, and she could take no more. Tears stung her eyes and blazed down her cheeks as she began to cry afresh in his chest.

 _There was red._

At last, at the end of the day, the sun fell into the ocean in Miami, setting down on the scene of the troubled capital. A-little-too-late, sirens were wailing as emergency vehicles drew near. A chipette was crying over the one she loved as he neared death. A sibling was afraid of losing his elder brothers. A family man drew ever closer to the grave. A lone blue chipmunk was running for his life. A woman was reminded of her past misdeeds and pined for light as she found peace.

The night was dark, tossing its ink over the sky and leaving them all in the obscurity of gloom.

"I have to get to my family!"

"…Who will protect my family… if I die?…"

"W-what's going to happen to us…?"

"Would I have been forgiven?"

"…Alvin… I… I love you…"

Finally, the lights came on.


	38. Filler (Full Story Recap)

**AATC: Territory**

 **I know the chapter last time was incredibly short… probably the shortest chapter to ever get posted from one of my epic-length (100k+) stories. But there was ABSOLUTELY NOTHING that could be added to it. My climaxes usually last for double-length of the usual chapter amounts, but as you can see, I made it last for two chapters, one that clocked at 4.5k, the other at 5.5K. That's a 10k right there.**

 **Nonetheless, the fic continues. This is the final REVELATION chapter. For everyone who thought they had this fic all figured out, we will see. If you still haven't figured out the fic, now you will.**

 **38.**

"What the hell's happening to this city? It's going to hell in a handbasket."

"I reckon it's been hell for the longest while, especially recently."

"Is anyone else seeing this crap? It's the same kind of video footage being shown all over the goddamn place!"

Simon sat quietly on the hard bench, not even trying to make an attempt to get comfortable. He only stared up at the television monitor hung in a high corner of the hospital's waiting room, watching the images and video clips haze by. He was only barely interested, and everyone who bothered to notice could easily realize that he was only watching the television because it was distracting. Every now and again, one of the two police officers who sat by his sides would glance at him as if unsure of what to do or even say to him, but would ultimately leave him alone. Their only jobs were security detail in a sense, and to collect statements from him if and when he recovered from his trauma.

He shook every now and again. This was pronounced given the fact that he still had on a bullet-proof vest. The danger he was in had long past, but he clutched at it as if it were a lifeline as if it was the only thing keeping him safe, or perhaps it was even something more important to him than that. Trembling again, his eyes finally began to lose focus as exhaustion began to take over. He hadn't slept at all the night before when Ravin' Raven had kidnapped him, making it more than thirty-six hours since he had properly rested. But his eyes remained open. They had to stay open.

"It's all garbage!" Another person who sat in the waiting room complained. "It's just a bunch of violence! And this car-crash video that's circulating on social media with that woman is the one that makes the least amount of sense. I can't even recognize that setting from anywhere from even in Florida. There's no logic!"

"You're wrong…" Simon whispered. Next to him, the police officers' ears nearly cocked up when they heard the chipmunk speak, and very inconspicuously leaned forward to hear him better. "It's all logical. It makes perfect, yet horrible… sense."

"Hmm?" The woman who sat across the room from him looked up at him. "You say something? Wait a minute… aren't you that Simon guy from the C & C band? What're…" the woman stared at him trembling in his bullet-proof vest and flanked by a policeman and policewoman. "Someone's been targeting you? Hey, where's the rest of your family?"

"They're… waiting by his bedside," Simon said vaguely, "hoping and waiting for him to wake up and laugh like he's always done. I'm here…" Simon hesitated. "I'm here trying to make sense of everything that happened. And now, it's all so clear. I only wish… that I realized this all earlier. If I hadn't gotten myself captured, who knows how things would've turned out? That my loved ones wouldn't have to be fighting for their lives? That the woman who tried to stop all this wouldn't have had to give me her only protection against Vincent's bullets? That I wouldn't have to be forced to abandon her as she died alone?"

"You'll have to excuse me. I don't know anything about this. I may be a fan of the music that you and your family do, but I don't think I even want to know after all…"

"I can tell that you want to know…" Simon rebutted gently with a grim smile, "and I wish that I pieced everything together before it all came to this. But allow me to tell a story as best as I know how…" He trailed off, almost intentionally giving the police officers a chance to pull out recorders to document his testimony.

 _They were known as Alvin and the Chipmunks. They'd already gotten their big break, and everyone knew about them. Their songs were playing nonstop on the radio. This'd been going on for a while, and life was good. It wasn't too long that the Chipettes came to town, and life got better. They all became fast friends. They shared so much in common: likes, dislikes, hopes, dreams, and ambitions… their love and passion for singing, though… that was the best part._

 _Their life felt settled. However, before too long, jealousy became prevalent; Brittany became envious of the fact that she and her sisters only did 'small time' singing, while their friends were already famous. She behaved rashly, and began to spread nasty trash-talk that she and her sisters sung better than the chipmunks, and to make it worse, she built herself up by tearing down at the Sevilles by saying that their singing was mediocre._

 _The eldest chipmunk and her closest friend, Alvin, didn't take it well. Although his brothers and Brittany's sisters were prepared to come to a peaceful resolution, he refused to let it slide. He let his mean streak show, and he began to prank his best friend. It wasn't in an amusing way, nor was it harmless. They were the sort of pranks that would make anyone miserable, but things finally came to a head when he had humiliated her in front of the entire class. They had their first official fight that day, and they broke off their friendship, insisting that they had nothing but hatred for one another._

 _They tried to show that they didn't care, but it hardly mattered. Brittany and her sisters had gotten the chance to sing at their first large concert, and it was their chance for them to shine as much as the chipmunks did. Things, however, ended tragically when on their way back, they met up in a car collision with Valerie, a hacker who was utterly drunk who had crashed into their car, injuring the chipettes and herself to the brink of death, and killed Ms. Miller, the adoptive mother of the chipettes. Nearby, a small-but-rising singer named 'Ravin' Raven' was filming his amateur music video and had happened to capture the event on camera. He and his friends called for an ambulance, but Valerie didn't want to be processed by the system since she was a criminal. Since he was a small-time criminal as well, he understood perfectly. Spending his own money, he had her nursed back to health and took advantage of her strong sense of obligation and her talents to hijack the capital of Miami, knowing that it would provide the most money revenue since it was sometimes known as the 'Party Central of the East. Before long, his popularity rose and he secured his standing nearly in the entire east side of the country by quashing any artists who 'came to perform on his territory', wanting to keep the fans' loyalties to himself._

 _Meanwhile, on the other side of the country, things were going from bad to worse. Amidst all the tragedies, Brittany had been shouldering blame that she could have been able to prevent the car crash by warning her mother about the impending collision. Unsurprisingly, this unhealthy guilt deepened into depression. She became catatonic-… absenting herself from society, she had no proper way to grieve, and over the guilt that she had caused the mother to die, the one person who took she and her sisters in, Brittany was already contemplating suicide._

 _No one knew about this particular factor. Though they saw that Brittany was in severe depression, there wasn't much that could be done, seeing that they were already running low on cash. There couldn't be any local performances either, as the chipettes could not perform without their sister, and the chipmunks' reputation and fame were sullied because of Brittany's earlier disastrous lies that spawned from jealousy._

 _Yet, it was at this point that Alvin found himself at the Millers' house to see Brittany. He grieved with her in the best way possible-… he was simply there for her, and he didn't take one step away from her until she broke out of her depressive state, despite her rejecting his presence at first. He had no idea that just by showing up, he had wrecked her plans to commit suicide that very night he went over to visit, and upon discovering her pre-written suicide note, resolved to always be there for her, no matter what. Just being a vindictive prankster wasn't his main nature, and he finally let his true colors show-…showing that he was actually very considerate and loyal when times called for it._

 _Though their past confrontations were already forgotten and they were growing close once more by the end of that summer, things still hadn't smoothed out as yet. During that year, specifically autumn, Alvin vainly tried to perform a parkour stunt and severely injures himself, the expenses of which further pushes Dave into a 'tight spot' where finances were concerned. In light of this, Dave decided to adopt the chipettes so that they could move out of the Miller house and in the Seville household, thus halving expenses. This also failed, as Brittany refused to go through with adoption for several personal reasons, the main ones being that she was already beginning to fall for Alvin and didn't wish to become his brother, and the fact that if she took on the Seville family name, it would the same as turning her back on the woman who had adopted her and her sisters._

 _Backed into a corner with even basic expenses becoming a challenge, Dave became desperate. He made his risky decision that all of the children would have to go on a tour the country as far east as possible, despite suspecting that Vincent Murray, a Rap-Metal singer, had been monopolizing the entire east side of the U.S.A. and took commissions from all the singers who wanted to sing in his 'territory'. He made up his mind; he rallied a few sponsors and instrumentalists to start a music tour, and only got them on board with the idea so long as several charities benefitted as they'd always done. With that out of the way, he asked the Chipmunks and Chipettes to form a sextet band called 'C & C' and they went on a tour that summer._

 _Things were going well at first, and the C & C were flourishing, despite having to perform all-night concerts to pull in as much revenue as possible, hardly playing more than one concert per state to ensure reaching as many 'newcomers' as possible. Following one of these concerts in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, Alvin mistakenly ordered an exorbitant of room service food and he and his brothers are forced to donate it to a charity soup kitchen. They are caught on camera doing this, and the video became trending. Ravin' Raven sees it and realizes that it's the reason why his own popularity had started to decline. Because of this, he decides to go pay the C & C a visit at their next concert to see if he could get them to work with him._

 _Abandoned by their backup instrumentalists, the C & C move on to Richmond, Virginia, continuing on to play their music by themselves with their own instruments. During the night, Simon recites a poem about the consequences of seeing crimes being committed without the witnesses doing anything about it, and Brittany sang the song she had written while in her depression from the previous year, which was a memoriam for the deceased Ms. Miller. Valerie, who was in the crowd, is guilt-tripped by everything she'd done. From everything from the fact that she was the reason why Ms. Miller died and started chipmunks' and chipettes' plunge into debt, to the fact that she'd been covering up every crime that Ravin' Raven had done to secure his popularity. After a failed meeting between Ravin' Raven and the band, the former of which wanted to derail the concerts in his favor, Valerie took on the guise of one of C & C stage technicians and inserted herself into their lives of the chipmunks and chipettes to find a way to redeem herself._

 _The following day, Brittany got separated from Alvin and got mugged by a criminal in an alley. Showing his devotion and his over-protectiveness of her, Alvin catches up to the mugger who was attempting to carry her off with him and beat him half-to-death, although the matter was settled by the local police who insisted that the trouble is kept quiet for the chipmunks' reputation sake. Because of this, the band quickly moves on to Miami, Florida, for their last few concerts on tour. The fact that they even finally went to went to Miami angered Ravin' Raven, but instead of outright having them killed, he decided to give them warnings by means of freak accidents, in the hopes that it wouldn't be completely suspected of him of being responsible, and that the band would return home peacefully._

 _Hardly even one day since their arrival, Theodore is poisoned with a substance that induced severe seizures by a drug pusher named Salvatore, a man coerced into doing so by the jealous rapper. At the hospital, Simon, who'd long been suspecting that Dave had been hiding secrets from them about the tour, finds out that there is a person in Miami who disliked having musical artists performing in their 'territory' but does not know who. He informs Alvin to take better care about of himself and the others, but they do not tell the rest of the others, deciding that the information would only worry them needlessly in case the info was false. Meanwhile, Salvatore is murdered by Lamar, Ravin' Raven's right-arm man, to cover their tracks. That night, the first of a continuing set every night, Valerie breaks into the chipettes' room to inject antidepressants and sleeping tranquilizers into Brittany, who'd been experiencing these ailments ever since going on tour. After doing this, Valerie is asked by Vincent to set up cameras in the suites to watch the singers. She realizes that he's going to keep targeting the band, and decides to intervene. Going against her boss's wishes to have Jeanette hurt by a pursuing vehicle, she does so in a way that would ensure that she would stay anonymous, untraceable and above all, unmentioned by Jeanette who she threatened to keep silent about her existence. The fact that Jeanette was spared from danger didn't go down well with Vincent, and he publicly posted music-video that was interpreted to Valerie that he was going to 'hunt down' the chipmunks and chipettes._

 _Because of this, she tries on both sides, by being their personal friend and confidant, as well as being a hacker who seemed to be working with Ravin' Raven, Valerie warns them all to return home, but it was all for naught. During one of the C & C concerts, she made a mistake while maintaining one of the cameras set up in the chipettes' suite, erroneously dropping a memory card of footage of her breaking into the bedroom every night. Not realizing her blunder at the time, she rushed to get back to the concert to cover up her tracks. That night, she recognizes her mistake and returns when the chipettes are asleep to search for the memory card, as well as to resume administering drugs to Brittany at the same time. This was not to be, as being unwilling to face Dave for his stunt during the concert, Alvin decides to sleep next to Brittany in her suite instead, forcing Valerie to hide and wait until they fell asleep. By the time she leaves, she realizes that Brittany wouldn't need drugs anymore since Alvin had been the way to finally get over the loss of her mother._

 _The next day, Alvin and Brittany are on a date, and whilst walking on a pedestrian over-traffic bridge, Lamar intercepts them and drops Alvin over the side. Alvin managed to hold onto a railing before falling, thus keeping himself alive. Noticing this, Lamar tries to shoot him. Luckily, Brittany stops him from shooting Alvin, and saving his life for the second time, helped him back onto the bridge. Lamar retreats, and in the wake of the event, everyone comes to terms that someone is targeting them, but decide to stay in the view of a large number of fans in order to stay safe while being in Miami._

 _This does not go down well with Lamar especially, who was thwarted. He resolved that they the band had gotten 'enough warnings', and it was time that one of them (Eleanor) died, to get the message across. Knowing that there was a personal rule to not warn the same chipmunk twice, Valerie poisons Eleanor and reports to Vincent that she'd been 'warned', before helping Eleanor by causing her to get nausea and vomit it back, thus buying herself and the rest of the C & C some time and another opportunity to warn them vocally the get out of the state. Brittany especially is given a chance to leave since she still had yet to be targeted, but she declines and stays with the others in Miami. _

_Simon, meanwhile, has had enough and decides to find some way of finding evidence on Ravin' Raven's wrongdoing. During this time, Brittany stumbles across the memory card that showed video footage of Valerie secreting drugs into her nearly every night, and together with Alvin, confront her about it. Caught unawares while she was trying to stop Simon from blundering into trouble, Valerie was revealed to the C & C as the hacker who worked for Ravin' Raven and is incapacitated. Before she is reported to the police, out of fear of being arrested, she reveals that most of them are corrupted due to being blackmailed and bribed by Vincent, and the reason she works for Vincent as well is because of obligation as well as another reason she didn't wish to reveal. Because of her incapability to stop Simon in time, the chipmunk ends up being captured by Ravin' Raven, who uses him as a bargaining chip for Valerie in return, whom he realized had betrayed him by helping the C & C. Hoping to still catch her, he sent out his cohorts to kill her and the chipmunks and 'ettes, whom he believed had learnt too much. However, she predicted such a move, and everyone makes a daring escape._

 _Now on the run from a fully despotic and psychotic Ravin' Raven, the singer and Dave and Valerie take shelter in the hacker's safehouse to figure out their next move. Realizing that he'd need to bribe the highest members of the police to keep them from intervening in his plans to kill them all, Valerie instructs Alvin to sabotage the local bank's power to prevent monetary withdrawals. In the same time, she also told Dave to get the others to the airport, and she'd meet him there after she picked up Simon from Vincent's house._

 _The plan went up in smoke; Vincent had plotted to bait Valerie to him by using Simon and tried to have them both killed. Things weren't any better with the others, as Lamar had intercepted Brittany and Alvin, and tried to murder them both. Alvin surprised the offender by revealing that he was armed as well but ultimately failed to do anything due to his hesitancy. In the end, he got saved in the nick of time by a worried Dave and the rest of his family, and they fend off Lamar from shooting Alvin and Brittany. They soon fell to the man's brutish strength, and Dave got shot. Just before Lamar could shoot Brittany as well, Alvin finally found his nerve and placed himself in front of the chipette he loved and took the shot for her. In retaliation, Alvin vented his gun and shot Lamar in reprisal before he collapsed._

"That's what happened… no… that's **why** everything happened," Simon explained. "It's why Alvin's fighting to stay alive right now, and why the doctors are trying to keep Dave from closing his eyes for the last time."

"But why aren't you waiting close to them with the rest of your family?" the woman asked. "Don't you care?"

"I do care. I just…" Simon hesitated as he ran his hand over the bullet-proof vest he still wore. "I got shot while wearing this vest. It really hurt and frightened me, and just to imagine Valerie lying by the wayside after getting shot to death by Ravin' Raven… it scares me and makes me admire how brave she was. She sacrificed herself to save me… even after I rebuked her for killing Ms. Miller in that car accident last year. She gave her only protection just so that I could return safely. Her worst fears were to be incarcerated and imprisoned; she as a hacker might've erased records of even her existence, and I'm representing the Sevilles to see if we'll get to bury her. It's the least we could do. Someone has to be there for her, you know?"

"I get that," the woman who sat across from him replied. "But I don't get the meaning behind the video of the car crash, and I don't understand why this criminal footage is still streaming across the whole city."

"She didn't want to be incarcerated, and Vincent used her sense of obligation to him as well as the blackmail video of her manslaughter of Ms. Miller to ensure that she'd always work for him. But for the videos that you're seeing all over the place… It's easy to realize that she was a very talented hacker, and she probably released all this footage, knowing that there was no way that she was going to win. With that in mind, to make sure that Vincent would never be able to deny any of his wrongdoings in court and that he'd never get away to hurt us in the future, she released the footage to air all over the city. Even if he was still in power, Vincent could never get rid of every single person in the city, because everyone is now a witness. The whole world is now a witness."

"So they took each other down?" the woman presumed with a thoughtful look on her face. "Kinda poetic."

Simon sighed despondently as he heard this. "No… I think it's just sad. What'll happen to us now, I wonder?"

 **And that's 170k+ words summarized into 2.6k. Guess I overdid things, huh? :P**

 **Anyway, stick around. We're close to the end.**

 **Valete omnes,**

 **MRAY 4TW.**


End file.
